


Bang! Bang!

by Introvertia



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1990s, Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Police, Attempted Murder, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Blood, Fluff and Angst, Frottage, Gay Billy Hargrove, Gay Sex, Gun Violence, Homophobic Language, M/M, Murder, Oral Sex, Original Character(s), lots of bad words and such
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-02 19:49:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17270009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Introvertia/pseuds/Introvertia
Summary: Steve and Billy have an unexpected fling that ends as swiftly as it starts in the summer 1985.In Indianapolis during the winter of 1996 Steve gets caught up in a vendetta a man has against his father, Billy gets assigned to the case by chance, but things don't go as planned.





	Bang! Bang!

**Author's Note:**

> Kind of an in U/AU, just in the future. Lots of references to Classic Horror films, because I like them. I may have gotten a little fluffier than normal in some bits, but there's absolutely some sad bits and I tried to create some suspense too.

 

**Bang! Bang!**

**November 1996 Indianapolis,IN**

 

 

**Part 1**

 

Steve moves up the hall at a fast clip, he wove past Gloria a sweet natured secretary that works for the CEO. Steve’s pretty sure she’s younger than him, maybe twenty-three. He glances at her over his shoulder, she smiles at Steve, and he can’t help but smile back, she’s really cool. He’s glad she’s there, she’s one of the few people that he’s happy to see at work.

“Hey greased lightning, what’s the rush?”

“New conference packets, gotta get ‘em done before the holiday break.” Steve stepped into the elevator and used a corner of the heavy box under his arm to push the button.

“Good luck!” Gloria’s voice is nearly cut off as the doors close.

“Thanks!” Steve shifted to the back of the elevator to lean on the faux wood panel wall. He wonders if Gloria is just nice or flirting, “Don’t even think about it.” Steve sighed aloud. “No time, no energy, and shit luck.” It was something he says to himself anytime he thinks about dating, and the more he thinksabout Gloria,he wonders if she is really interested at all? Maybe she’s just friendly, he reasons. Awkwardness at the office is the last thing he wants, and Gloria had turned down a few of theguys in her first three weeks. Steve thinks she would scream if one more office drone hits on her, and decides it’s be best to keep himself off that list, besides - it would never go anywhere, and that would definitely turn into awkward, and what was worse than that, work drama.

“Fuck that.” Steve nodded to himself. As soon as the doors ping open he steps out and dodges a few suits making his way to the Office Manager’s Room, or as he thinks of it, his little man cave where he keeps all the glorious office supplies, a twenty-first century dragon’s hoard of legal pads, post-it notes, paperclips and thumbtacks all accounted for and organized.

The floor had been buffed the previous night and his shoes glided along the linoleum, at first he almost slips, but then he just opts to skate around, loading the trays of the copiers, checking ink cartridges, and setting up the originals in the copier just so. It’s not hard work, not by a long shot, but doing things like this, formatting the quarterly conference packets, could be kind of fun for him.

Steve, not for the first time, wonders if he should ask again if there’s room in the marketing department, or if any of the Architects want to take on an apprentice, of course he’d have to eventually get a Bachelor of Architect, but why not do both? Get in the right department, kind of slide in, he knew the basics, he’d been with the company long enough, a fleeting sense of hope that he’d barely stoked quickly fizzled out, he had a feeling he’d get the same answer his dad had given him the last two times.

_“You don’t have a degree son, you’re not a draftsman, stick to what you’re good at.”_

Steve knew he _could_ do it if he just got a chance.He just needs to go back to school, he could be done in maybe five years, if he kept working full-time and going to school part time. He leaned on the copier, remembering how much he hated school, but then again, Jonathan had sworn to him the college was different, that it felt better, more purposeful. Steve paced a bit, he knew he had enough hands on experience to be a decent apprentice draftsman, because they’d used his mock-ups every conference pamphlet for the last five years, not just kind of been inspired by, but copied his plans exactly for several of the smaller building designs.

“I need to change departments or quit this stupid job.” Steve glanced over at his office door, not wanting to get caught talking to himself. Not for the first time he day dreamed about change, about a better job, a better life, but then admits to himself that he’s not made any steps towards what he wants. He was like a deer caught in headlights, frozen.

The little voice inside his head buzzes on about how it’s hard to find steady work, school is hard, and it’s not free, living in Indianapolis is crazy expensive, maybe not New York expensive, but pricey. Steve looks out the window his fingers busily rolling and unrolling his tie, it has little paisleys on it, which remind him of tailless psychedelic sperm. He wonders how Jon and Nancy are doing, he’s not seen them since he’d gone to visit them on the 4th of July weekend.

Brooklyn had been hot and humid, the city stank, and they drank warm beer, ate questionable street food and went to see Lou Reed play in a dive bar, it had been surreal. Steve had never been into the Velvet Underground, or really listened to Lou Reed, but being there with the Jon and Nancy kind of made it transcendent, like it was a vital life experience to hear Lou Reed sing live with the friends that had lasted through the good and the really bad times. It had only been four months ago but it felt as though it had happened in another life, three days and two nights in places he’d only read about, Brooklyn, the Bronx, Manhattan, riding around on the subway, walking till his feet hurt. He’d felt a million miles away from Indiana, and his family, he’d really felt like himself while he was out there, not that he was sure who he was, just not this guy, not the Office-Manager-Guy, not anxiety guy that sometimes thinks there’s monsters in the stairwell.

 

“Hey, can I get some legal pads?” Steve looks up from his necktie that’s mid roll. Marty, a nice older gent that did accounting had his balding head poking in the doorway.

“Coming right up.”

“Thanks, kid.” Marty nodded vigorously at him, “You know you’re too good for this place kiddo, you know how I know?”

“How’s that Marty?”

“Because you’re not a snake in the grass and you’re not a pompous ass.”

“Well then, I guess we’re both too good for this place. Let’s get outta here, we’ll just take lunch and never come back.” Steve shrugged and handed over a small stack of legal pads.

“Oh no, I’m staying here till I retire, they’re not getting outta giving me a gold watch, and kick in the ass out the door!” Marty laughed as he walks off down the fluorescent lighted hallway. Steve smiled a bit watching him go, but feels the way he always does after chatting with Marty, like the man is a walking-talking-cautionary-tale; get out before your only reason for staying is a mediocre retirement plan and basic benefits that the company will screw you out of if they get half a chance.

Steve worked through his lunch break, he’d lost his appetite. The smell of toner was making him pleasantly light headed. He stared at the green strobe of the Xerox machine, remembering his time away in New York and his brief interaction with Marty have left him feeling hollow. He can’t imagine being as old as Marty and still being at the same company, Marty was very fond of reminding him how he’d been his age when he started there. Steve had started after he’d just turned twenty instead of going to a trade school. Steve shook his head and grabbed a pencil, he filled out the order sheet for inventory and supplies, but kept getting distracted.

Some days, more often than not he feels like he’s been sleepwalking through life, the word somnambulist popped in his head uninvited. Steve’s peers have moved on or at the very least followed their passions, or maybe just managed to check the _adulthood-boxes_ , married, home owner, careers that people respect, or very least didn’t mock.

“You can’t even manage a steady relationship?” Steve looked around, making sure he was alone, and went and shut the door to his office. Later, Steve hauled the pamphlets up to the meeting room and laid them out at each of the executive’s seats. Comfortable high-backed leather chairs are set all around a high polished table, the wood is dark and almost looks wet, it reminds him of a black mirror and makes him shiver.Normally he likes this room, the windows are amazing, the decor sparse, but for some reason he’s feeling jumpy.

To distract himself from his burgeoning anxiety attack he takes in the view of the city, it is impressive although Steve’s convinced that no one with office’s on this floor really appreciates it. He leans close to the glass. The city is illuminated beneath him, he’s twelve floors up from street level and while there are taller buildings near by he still feels strangely afloat in the evening sky. It’s a cold clear night, the sun set around five thirty and he realizes then that his work day is finally over, but he feels very little relief knowing he’d be _back-at-it_ the next morning, and the morning after that.

“Hey, what are you staring at?” Gloria’s voice is soft, she’s standing near his elbow, she’s a little taller than him in her heels, her wide dark eyes are focused on his in the reflection of the glass.

“The city, I guess.” Steve smiled softly, her eyes looked like black pools in the reflection, but it’s not scary, it’s kind of magical.

“Did you grow up here?” She turns her gaze to the city below, a soft smile playing on her lips.

Steve keeps his eyes on her reflection, he watches her mirrored self pull at a dark curl, it’s kind of cute.

“Nah, I’m from Hawkins, it’s a little place.” Steve shrugs.

“I never would have pegged you as a small town boy.”

“It’s the smallest.”

“I grew up here.” She tilted her chin at the vista below,“it’s kind of pretty at night, I forget that sometimes.” Gloria turned and smiled at him and he can’t help but feel comforted by her bright smile and natural warmth. Her hair is arranged in a neat pile of dark sprinting curls, and her full lips are painted the color of wine. “Would you want to,” Gloria is speaking softly when the doors to the meeting room swing open.

“Glad you’re still here, c’mon, I want to talk to you, I’ll give you a ride home.” Steve’s father was standing there, loosening his necktie and checking his watch as he spoke. He glanced up at Steve impatiently and then to Gloria, “Oh, uh, goodnight Arelene.”

“It’s Gloria.” Steve said loud and clear.

“Right, that’s what I said.” His father was slipping on his camelhair coat and didn’t bother to look at them, he just turns and starts walking towards the elevator.

“He’s such a dick, sorry about that.” Steve doesn’t care if people know what he thinks about how his father treats the staff, part of him hopes it gets back to his father and then wham, fired unemployed and free.

“It’s no big deal.” Gloria replied mildly.

“Have a goodnight, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Steve followed in his father’s wake, he was sure she was just about to ask him out and he’s thankful he doesn’t have to answer her. As lonely as he feels sometimes, he knows that she’s not the answer. Steve got in the elevator with his father, his head swimming with doubts, anxiety bobbing up to the surface in his sea of thoughts.

His father hands Steve his brief case so he’s free to pull on his calfskin gloves, Steve sets it down on the elevator floor, a small act of rebellion. Steve’s coat is in his office, but he figures between the distance to the car that would be waiting on the street and then walking up to his apartment he’d be warm enough.

“I hope you can appreciate that your father has balls like church bells!” His father chuckled. Steve rolls his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose, he felt a headache coming on.

“No kidding.” He mumbles and pushes the ground floor button repeatedly.

“I just scored the land south of Victory Field and off of South West, we’ve got some prime real estate, right off the river and South of Washington.” Steve’s father was grinning so hard it looked like he’d contracted rictus.

“I thought Mr Bishop’s investors had some kind of deal, like they had put down money.” Steve loosely followed the projects his father worked on, his dad was the head of acquisitions and investments.

“Oh they did, but you know, if your loans get tangled in a little red tape, and the bank won’t let you withdraw from certain accounts, well the sellers aren’t just gonna sit around waiting for some slob like Bishop to get his assets in order, money talks and we’ve got the money and I’m telling you, we’re going to triple our investments here,” Henry Harrington was practically doing a little jig as he spoke.

“How would you even know?” Steve hesitated frowning.

“Oh, Stevie, I know it’s a lot to imagine, but this is a prime location, we can build on that land,” His father was condescendingly explaining the possibilities of the property, Steve interrupted impatiently.

“No, I get that you’re going to triple the company’s investment, sure. But how do you know that Bishop couldn’t get the loans or whatever?” Steve frowned.

“Because I know the bankers, and _they_ owe _me_ favors. You really need to master the art of networking son.” His father snapped. He’d gone from thrilled to annoyed rather quickly, and Steve knew that meant his dad knew he’d done something he shouldn’t.

“Is that legal?” Steve pressed, the more he knew about how his father did business the less he liked him, and this wasn’t the first time his father wasn’t doing things exactly above board.

“You sound like your mother,” Mr Harrington said venomously, his grin turned to a snarl and Steve wished he’d grabbed his coat so he could pass on the ride home. “That Arelene girl is pretty, but don’t get too serious.” He groused changing the subject.

“Her name’s Gloria, and we were just talking.” Steve had an instant migraine, the elevator lights were far too bright, that and his father was a jackass.

“Sure son, just don’t get her knocked up. You can do better.”

As they stepped out into the icy air Steve decided he’d had more than enough.

“You know what, I forgot my keys upstairs.” He lied, “I’ll see you in the morning.” If he thought for one second that his father would offer to wait he’d have said don’t bother to wait, but he knew better.

“Man, if your head wasn’t attached.” His father grunted as he walked towards the Cadillac that was waiting, the driver Gabriel nodded at Steve he was holding the rear passenger door open for Mr Harrington.

Steve waved at Gabriel who called after him as soon as the door was shut.

“Hey Steve, you want me to come back for you?”

“Nah, thanks Gabe. I need the walk. Have a goodnight.” Steve went back inside thankful that he’d managed to get out of the ride home, he’d take the hour long freezing walk in silence over another ten seconds with his father when he was like this, high on his ego and doling out unwanted advice, he cringed at the thought that when his father said, ‘you could do better’, Steve knew he meant - _wait till you meet a girl with a rich family, wait till you meet a girl that doesn’t sound so working class, wait till you meet a girl who would never work as a secretary, wait till you meet a girl that I choose for you_.

 

Steve was fuming by the time he started his walk home. The batteries in his disc-man had died so he just listened to his freight train of thoughts running through his head. Not for the first time he wondered if he’d been adopted, why his father was such an asshole, and how come his mother hadn’t left him years ago. Steve walked passed St Elmo’s Steak House, it was an old and famous restaurant, one that his parents had dragged him to for overpriced dinners on holidays and their anniversary and sometimes birthdays too. Steve was pretty sure his dad just liked to be seen there, hoping to impress his colleagues.A few times that Steve had gone, Antonio Bishop had been there too, often with a young blonde and even sometimes two, he recalled what his father had said about Antonio Bishop’s purloined warehouses.

Steve kicked at some trash blowing down the street and wondered what his father was thinking when it came to crossing Antonio Bishop, they guy was rumored to be a criminal, some gossip went so far as to suggest he was in the mafia. Antonio looked like a 1940s throw back, with his loud suits and diamond rings, it was no wonder people thought he was in the mob. Steve had heard some of the executives chitchatting in the hallway and one of them called Bishop a real hothead, the older of the pair had just chuckled, and said “The word you’re looking for is sociopath, don’t ever cross that man.” Steve had glanced up from his arm load of papers to look at Mr Weintraub, it was clear he was being deadly serious, although Mr Greene, whom he’d been speaking to was tittering faintly.

Steve shivers as he walks - he knows that his father is not as clever as he thinks he is. If Mr Bishop really wants those warehouses, he’ll probably find a way, even if the banks had frozen his assets and are refusing him a loan - people like Bishop got what they wanted or they took it and if all else failed they’d make you suffer for not giving them what they wanted.

 

Steve walked into his apartment and straight to the heater and turned it on, his nose nearly numb and fingers ache with cold. His teeth were chattering lightly. He turns on the TV and starts changing into some soft sweat pants and a long sleeve thermal shirt. He looks out the window expecting to see snow fall, but there’s none, it’s too dry. It’s so cold that just standing near the glass his breath paints little patches of fog on it. Steve draws the curtains and goes into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He has the TV on for noise, he’s not planning on watching it, he just wants to go to bed, get warm, maybe make a grilled cheese sandwich first. He rinsed out his mouth twice, regretting getting the flavor of toothpaste in there, because now a grilled cheese sandwich sounds like the perfect meal, he rinses and spits one more time and practically skips over to his little kitchen, he remembers he’s not eaten since breakfast and that explains his sudden enthusiasm. He’s got the burner going and flicks a dab of butter into the pan and then hears familiar music coming from the TV.

“No way.” He utters to himself, he grabs the remote and turns up the volume on the TV. On the screen of his television were the opening credits to The Creature from the Black Lagoon. Steve plopped down edge of his couch. He smiles feeling the thrill of nostalgia and the pang of solitude. He can’t wait to watch it, the last time he’d seen it he’d been in Hawkins, sitting in the Hawk Movie Theater, it had been empty but for him and one other person, Billy Hargrove.

 

**Part 2**

 

Billy stepped out of his small bathroom, it was barely big enough for the sink, standing shower and toilet and he’d caught his hip on the sink a couple times when he’d been in a rush. He had a dinky boombox in the bathroom that he’d been listening to the radio on low when he heard a familiar dramatic score coming from the TV. Dripping and steaming he walks over to the stare at the tiny TV screen, a half cocked grin curls his lips, The Creature from the Black Lagoon. Steve Harrington’s favorite Universal Monster flick. Billy toweled himself distractedly watching the screen. The heater wasn’t working too well, but Billy was feeling alright standing there naked and dripping, his body still hot from the shower, his short hair was practically dry after a few swipes of the towel. He dressed in front of the TV putting on his uniform distractedly.

“Are you going to work?” Robert, Billy’s _friend_ sat up in the bed, making Billy’s breath catch, he’d forgotten he was there.

“Yeah, I told you, I got the graveyard shift.” Billy glanced over at Robert, his hair looked like an imploded hay stack.

“I forgot.” Robert smiled sheepishly, “Come by the bar when you’re done.”

“I won’t be done till four in the morning, genius.” Billy sighed as he buttoned up the front of his shirt.

“Oh yeah, you said that.” Robert had dark eyes that shined when he lit his cigarette, Billy turned his attention back to the television, the dialogue was so poorly written it was almost farcical, the acting was stiff, but he felt a weird thrill watching it, all the same. Billy could feel Robert staring at him while he pulled on a plain clothed trench coat over his uninform, but Billy kept his bright blues locked on the screen.

“You like this old time schlocky stuff?” Robert sounded bored, or maybe whiney, either way Billy didn’t like his tone.

“It’s a classic. C’mon man, get up, I’ll drop you off.”

“I’m not getting on the back of your Indian in this weather - I’ll freeze.”

“Fine, but you can’t stay here, and I’m leaving in five.”

“Are you afraid I’m going to steal something, because you don’t have anything worth stealing.” Robert chuckled, “Maybe your CDs, and eh, yeah that’s it…”

“Bobby, get up man, I’m not fucking around, I can’t be late and you’re not staying.”

“Jesus, you’re such a hard-ass, why do I come here.”

“Because…” Billy walked over and straddled Robert’s hips, and dug his hands in his dark hair pulling his head back and licked him up his neck and bit his ear.

“You got a cop kink.”

“Shit. Well I do now, damn Billy.” Robert purred.

“That’s Officer Hargrove to you.” Billy teased as he shoved Robert back and got up, “Hustle kid, I mean it. Three minutes.” Billy grabbed his gloves, everything else was at work in his locker.

“Hey, I picked up a shift at St Elmo’s this Friday, they’re having some business event there, taking on extra servers and bartenders for the night, swing by in your uniform, they’ll let you in, I’ll serve you up a few rounds.”

“That fancy steak house? I’ll think about it, but even if I do go, I can’t waltz around in my uniform just to get a free drink. You got one minute.”

“Aw, I like you in your uniform.”

“Bobby-boy, you’re a little bit twisted.” Billy chuckled as he leaned over and picked up Robert’s beat-up combat boots, he didn’t know how to tell him that this was it for them, that he didn’t want to see him anymore, it wasn’t that they’d been dating - but the hook ups had been getting regular, and they were starting to act like a couple, starting to know each other’s schedules and likes and dislikes, or at least he knew Robert’s pretty damn well. Robert was alright, good looking, street smart, a bit of a booze hound, but if Billy was honest with himself - he didn’t feel anything close to passion or love for Robert. The sex was fine, Robert was willing, never said no, which was thrilling at first, but it wasn’t enough. Billy didn’t want to string him along, make him think they were a ‘thing’.

“Time’s up Bobby.” Billy tossed Robert his boots, Robert caught them and followed Billy the short distance to the door.

“You need a bigger place man, are you telling me you can’t afford something better?”

Billy slapped Robert’s ass to make him jump out of the door frame, and then shut the door and casually locked it. “I like it here, it’s close to work. You sure you don’t want a ride?”

“I’ll ride you anytime but I’m not getting on that bike.” Robert pulled on his beat up leather jacket, as they walked down the narrow hallway. “Call me tomorrow, you know, or just come by the bar.” Billy went down the staircase his heavy work boots loud on the old steps.

“We’ll see.” Billy stepped out into the cold night air, he wished he was upstairs still in bed, watching The Creature from the Black Lagoon, he knew all the parts that made Steve laugh, and the parts that made him grow quiet and thoughtful. He could almost smell the sweet vanilla waffle cone scent that clung to Steve’s skin that whole summer he was thinking about him so intently.

“Yeah, okay. Bye.” Robert turned and started walking.

Billy pulled on his motorcycle helmet and watched as Robert disappeared around the corner. He could tell he was irritated.

Billy never felt much for anyone he hooked up with. Only one person had ever really made him feel anything, had made him feel everything. That had been the only experience, Billy believed, that had proved to him that he had a heart, most days he felt like a tin man, heartless and empty.

 

**Part 3**

**Friday November 15th, 1996**

 

Steve walked into St Elmo’s shivering from the cold, the day had been bright and chilly, but once the sun dipped low the weather became biting. Breathing deeply through his nose had hurt when he’d jogged half a block because he was running late, and his dress shoes were useless on the cold slick concrete. He didn’t want to go and he also knew he couldn’t be too late, somehow with that internal battle going on the entire time while he was getting ready he’d managed to get there one hour late, he consoled himself that it was better than not showing up at all, and it was unlikely his dad had even realized Steve wasn’t there. The place looked as if it was about to overflow, the windows were steamed from all the body heat inside. Steve swung open the door with as much courage as he could muster, thinking there was still time to turn back as he stepped up to the maître-d’s podium. It felt like he’d wandered into a furnace, well it was definitely some kind of hellscape of that Steve was certain. He was surrounded by executives from work and their best client companies, and a few of their rivals. The place was a riot of cutlery, clinking glasses, fake laughter and piped Christmas jazz music. Steve pulled his coat off and the maître-d’ asked for his name with a tone of apology and nodded flipping through the guest book **.**

“If I’m not in there I’ll give you twenty bucks.” Steve joked, but the headwaiter merely nodded, and said, “Here you are Mr Steve Harrington, welcome, please enjoy yourself, your table is in the Director’s room, please have some Champagne, and happy holidays.”

“You too.” Steve said without feeling as he stepped deeper into the din of party goers.There were too many loud voices and stiffly smiling faces, he recognized many of them, but was at the same time acutely aware that he was surrounded by a sea of strangers.

“I’m so happy you came, I knew you would.” Steve’s mother pulled him gently to her side, “You look very handsome, is that the coat I gave you last Christmas? It reminds me of the one your grandpa had, but that was ages ago. You’re starting to look like him, I mean when he was a young man, not now, now he’s shrunk down to my height.” His mom let out a tired chuckle, her eyes were a little on the glassy side but Steve knew it wasn’t from the alcohol or the warmth of the room.

“So how do I look?” She asked as she adjusted the lapels of Steve’s jacket.

“Beautiful.” Steve wanted to say sad, but knew that would only make her upset.

“Really? Is this dress, I don’t know, too young? It’s kind of, well…” She shrugged at a loss of words.

“You look real pretty, mom.” Steve leaned in and kissed her cheek.

“Thanks, angel,” She looked around the room, her heavy gold and diamond earrings catching the light, “Your father’s been celebrating since lunch, I swear that man… Maybe you could try and reel him in a bit? Make sure he eats some hors d’oeuvres?” she attempted a smile, but really she was gritting her teeth.

Steve gently rested his hand on her back and looked around the densely packed room. He hears his father before he actually sees him, Mr Harrington was off near the entrance to the main hall holding court in front of a bunch of his cronies.

“Hey, Office Manager Steve, can I get some memo pads?” Walter, a greasy weasel of a man elbowed him sharply in the ribs and barked a staccato laugh in his face.

“Yeah, good one.” Steve didn’t bother to stop, he maneuvered around the little blow hard.

“Walter, don’t be a dick.” Gloria appeared at Steve’s side, her large dark eyes were lined artistically in black, her glossy red lips were mesmerizing.

“Gloria,” Steve paused, “You look,” he didn’t want to say anything that might make her think he was flirting, “really nice.”

“Thanks, you too,” Gloria smiled warmly, “You know I was going to ask you the other night,” Gloria stepped closer to him, turning her back on Walter and shutting him out of the conversation, “If you’d like to grab dinner with me, sometime.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice, maybe after the holidays, you know.” Steve looked over at his father, he was swaying a bit and talking loudly.

“I mean, no pressure.” Gloria looked around and back at Steve her smile had faded a bit.

“Hey, you know what, let’s go to Golden China, have you been there? Do you like Chinese food? I hadn’t had it till I moved here from Hawkins and I’m kind of addicted.”

“Oh yeah, I love that place.” Gloria’s expression brightened.

“I’ve got to go check on my dad,” Steve leaned into speak discretely in her ear, “My mom’s really worried about him, he drinks a little too much at these things.” He leaned back straightening up, her perfume was sweet like jasmine, it made him want to lean in again.

“You’re a good son. Go take care of it, and you better tell me when we’re going on that date.”

“Wait, it’s a date?” Steve blurted half turned towards his dad and half twisted back to her.

“Is that okay?” Gloria looked amused which was good, he worried he’d hurt her feelings.

“Yeah, totally, I’ll pick you up, we’ll ‘em, work out the details later.” Steve nodded, he could feel himself breaking out in a sweat.

“Sure.” Gloria raised her glass at Steve, he gave her a thumbs up and instantly felt like an idiot.

It felt like a life time since Steve had left his mother’s side, even though his father was standing a mere twenty feet away. Mr Weintraub and Mr Greene were standing there laughing their heads off at whatever his father was saying. Steve didn’t have the patience to join in the brown-nosing festivities so he just interrupted.

“Hey Dad. You know I think mom was hoping the three of us could sit down together, maybe eat before it gets too late.”

“She’s always thinking about food, I’m lucky she’s still thin.” Steve’s father spoke loudly, as if he were on a stage and he needed to make sure that his entire audience could hear him.

“Oh my Lucy is the same way, she likes us all at the table when it’s a holiday dinner. I’m thankful she’s got that old fashioned way about her.” Mr Weintraub looked like he’d had more than enough of Harrington Senior’s company for one night.

“Well then tuck tail and run, Warren - because the waiters are delivering.” Steve’s father snarked.

“So they are, excuse me, nice to see you Steve.” Warren nodded in Steve’s direction ignoring the intended insult.

“You too, Mr Weintraub.”

“Steve, you can call me Warren, and come by and say hello to Lucy if you can for a moment, she’s a fan of your conference packets.”

“Oh, well those aren’t mine, I don’t write those, she reads those?”

“She likes to check out the layout, she likes how you format them, she used to be in the design and graphics department for the annual catalogues and brochures, she’s quite the draftsman, or eh, draftswoman, that’s how we met, this was years ago when she worked for the company, before we had Warren Jr and Bonnie. Everyone knows you’re the one that’s been doing the final layouts, it’s high time you got the recognition for it.”

“I had no idea, she’s a graphic designer?  
“Well sure, she still freelances now and again, she’s got her Bachelor in Architect too, sometimes she picks up projects and she needs a second set of hands.”

“Really?” Steve felt baffled and excited, he’d met Lucy, she was always so kind to Steve, always asking him how he was. He wondered what it would be like to work with her.

“What kind of nonsense are you feeding his head with?” Mr Harrington interjected sourly.

“Steve’s too much of an asset to stay an office manager, we should move him over to the graphics design team or get him a scholarship to a trade school.”

“Graphics and marketing, those guys are a bunch of failed art students. Steve’s going to come up in acquisitions and investments, he’s got a mind for numbers. I would know, I’m his father. Speaking of acquisitions, Warren, you’ve not congratulated me yet on getting those warehouses, South of Washington.”

“Yes, I’d been planning on bringing that up later, I’ve heard from Mr Bishop’s lawyers, they want to have a meeting.”

“What’s to discuss?!” Mr Harrington walked up to Warren till their noses nearly touched, Steve touched his father’s shoulder lightly, Henry Harrington was not a violent man, not at all, but he could be a bully.

“Are you trying to undermine me? Don’t be a pussy Warren, we don’t need to have that meeting.”

“I think we should talk about this at the office.” Warren said flatly.

“We got the property. I’ve signed all the papers, the bank sat on Bishop’s cash, for it’s own reasons, I’m sure, it’s all very above board and on the books.” Mr Harrington threw up his hands dramatically, he was drawing curious looks and loving the attention.

“ _Dad_.” Steve warned, trying to get him to calm down.

“Life’s bitch and sometimes even Antonio Bishop gets bent over and has to take it up the ass!” Mr Harrington had a rather triumphant expression on his face and Steve, turned away his hand covering his own face, that’s when he saw a broad chested white suited figure walking over.

“What did you just say Henry? You son of a bitch, what did you say?!” Antonio Bishop was poking Mr Harrington in the chest with his index finger so hard that it was driving him backwards.

“Mr Bishop, he’s just had a few too many.” Steve attempted to step in between them, he decided then and there that this was definitely going in his top ten worst days of his life.

“You think you know something I don’t? Think you’re a tough guy? You think you can run your mouth about me and my business, and act like you got the biggest dick in town? I’ll kill you,” Antonio drew a breath, and whispered“ _I’ll_ kill _you_.” Antonio’s voice was low and growling, he’d gotten a hold of Henry’s necktie and gave him a shake.

“That’s enough, that’s _enough_.” Steve gripped Antonio’s wrist as hard as he could.

Some people were pushing to leave and some to get closer, everyone within a five foot radius had to have heard the threat, but Steve had seen the truth in Antonio’s eyes, he was serious, he meant it.

“Your his boy, huh? Yeah I’ve seen you.” Antonio released Henry’s tie and yanked his hand free from Steve’s grip.

“I think you should leave.” Steve hardly recognized his own voice, he sounded calm and authoritative - not at all how he was feeling.

“Is that what you think? You got a good grip kid, that’s good, it’s going to make being a pallbearer real easy.”

“Leave now.” Steve stepped in front of Mr Bishop, vibrating with adrenaline.

“Steve, Henry, what’s going on?” Steve’s mother had squeezed through the crowd, it seemed as though the whole room was holding its breath, the normal restaurant din had died down to near silence.

“Mrs Harrington, well, don’t you look lovely.” Antonio looked her up and down, “This is a party, happy holidays.” Mr Bishop looked around at the people averting their eyes and suddenly becoming busy with their drinks or admiring a random photograph on the wall. He fixed his gaze on Steve and then his father, lowering his voice.

“Enjoy them while they last, ain’t that the thing, live in the moment, yeah, cause life, it’s real short Henry, _real_ short.”

**Part 4**

 

The company party had come to a grinding halt, a few people were grabbing their coats and heading to the front door. Antonio Bishop stopped at the bar on the way out, taking his time and startling people by saying hello or complimenting their attire. At the bar he threw a whiskey back and wandered out of the place loudly wishing everyone a “Merry Christmas and a happy fuckin’ New Year!”

Steve’s mother was clutching his arm, “I want to go home.” Her eyes were wide and rabbit like, her fingers dug into Steve’s arm, “Henry,” she grabbed her spouse’s wrist,“we should all go home. That man threatened your life,” she shook her head violently changing her mind, “We should call the police!”

“Don’t be hysterical, this is a party, he’s just blowing off steam because what I said is true, it’s just sour grapes, guys like him say crazy stuff all the time, this isn’t Chicago, he’s not some gangster. He’s just having a tantrum. He thought he had total control over the deal, and he didn’t, he was sloppy and I’m a pro, so we got the deal and he’s shit out of luck.”The more Steve’s dad talked the more he regained his bravado and swagger, he began behaving as if he’d chased out Antonio Bishop.

“I’m going home. Right now. Steve honey, help me get my coat on, will you wait with me at the valet, I don’t known if I can drive, will you drive me home?”

“Yes, absolutely.” Steve walked his mother to the entrance, he glanced over his shoulder and watched his father boast about not being afraid of Antonio Bishop to anyone that would listen.

“Mom, I’m going to quit.” Steve confided as he helped her into her coat.

“Oh, honey. That’ s good, I think that’s great actually. Your father, he’s very myopic when it comes to what other people need and I know you’re not happy there. Really, he should retire, we can afford it. We’ve got a great plan, you know… and this is just… it’s just.” Mrs Harrington wiped away a single tear that had escaped, Steve swaddled her in her mink coat. He squeezed her shoulders.

“Let’s just get you home.” Steve steered her towards the exit, as they were stepping out a well built blonde opened the door and stood clear of the way for Mrs Harrington to pass.

“Thank you.” Steve’s mom said as she stepped into the icy night air.

“Ladies first.” The stranger replied, Steve’s head snapped up, he knew that voice. It was Hargrove’s. By the time Steve looked he only caught sight of his profile, his hair was trimmed short, nearly a military style, he had on a heavy black wool coat and tight knit grey beanie. His eyelashes were still impossibly long and dark.

“No…” Steve managed to mumble, he wanted to say no, wait, no you can’t be here, no you’re a ghost, no you’re not real, but all that came out was a very faint, No.

“Steve, honey. The car is here, will you drive me home? I don’t think I should drive.”

“Uh-huh.” Steve craned his head trying to see Billy, trying to convince himself he’d hallucinated the whole thing.

“Please, I can’t stop thinking about that awful man. I had two glasses of champagne, that was a mistake, I never even touched my dinner, it looked lovely, really delicious I’m sure, but now I couldn’t eat a thing, not a bite.”

“I’ll drive, it’s fine mom.” Steve leaned and squinted through the doors, he could watched Billy disappearing into the restaurant, he wondered if he was someone’s date, or had he started working for one of their client companies, he felt butterflies in his stomach swarming.

“You can bring the car back and collect your father, you’ll do that for me won’t you? We should go, there’s a line forming.” Mrs Harrington smiled at the people that were now behind them waiting for them to get their car.

Steve stepped off the wet sidewalk and into the car, the valet driver had already opened the passenger door and Mrs Harrington was buckled in and ready. Steve pulled out into the staggered traffic on the street. His heart was racing. He hadn’t see Billy in years, and he knew with every fiber of his being that that had been him. He looked the same, and different at the same time, his voice was the same, that was for sure. As Steve thought about the fact that he was driving away from Billy he felt his chest tightened. He stared at the windshield wipers as they swiped at the falling snowflakes.

“Are you okay? You look pale.” His mother reached over patting his arm.

“Just a hell of a party, I guess.” Steve forced a small smile.

“I know, it’s awful,” Mrs Harrington leaned back in her seat, her fur coat transforming her into a puddle of black with only the pale oval of her face showing. “I want you to do it, I want you to quit. That job’s no good for you, you’re too good for that place.”

“Maybe you’re a little biased?” Steve soothed.

“Well, yes, I am your mother, but I’m also right.” Mrs Harrington squeezed Steve’s arm. All Steve could think was Billy Hargrove’s name over and over in his head. Why hadn’t Billy seen him? Steve also wondered why he hadn’t said Billy’s name, but he knew he hadn’t because he’d been dumbstruck by the sight of him after so many years. Steve had always imagined that Billy had gone back to California, he’d never dreamt that Billy Hargrove was right there in Indianapolis. Maybe he was visiting? Steve had to go back.

 

**Part 5**

Billy had never eaten at St Elmo’s but he’d been to the bar a handful of times. The place was crowded, there was a private party going on, but Billy had aknack of getting into places he wasn’t necessarily invited to. He held the door open for the lady leaving and observed that the maitre’d was delegating tasks to a couple servers, so when Billy stepped in he waved at a beautiful woman at the bar who smiled at him, and that was enough. He was in and no one bothered to see if he was on a list or had an invitation. He removed his beanie and tucked it in his coat pocket, he was regretting walking and not taking his motorcycle - but at the rate the snow was falling he was better off on foot than getting clipped by some idiot that didn’t know how to handle their car on snowy streets.

“Sorry, I thought you were someone else.” Billy said smoothly to the beauty he’d waved at.

“Really? Well, maybe in another life we knew each other.” Gloria shrugged her eyes dancing over his face.

“Ha, do you believe in that sort of thing?” Billy smiled, his blue eyes shining beneath the webs of dark eyelashes.

“I don’t have to believe it for it to be possible.” Gloria replied mirroring his smile.

“Billy, and you are?” Billy put out his hand.

“Gloria.” She took his hand and squeezed lightly, “Nice to meet you. I don’t recognize you, which company are you with? I’m with Jordan & Wright Architects, we’re hosting.”

“To be honest, Gloria, I’m crashing this party. I know one of the bartenders and he said he’d hook me up if I got in.” Billy gallantly kissed the back of her hand.

“Ah, well that explains the wave, nice move, where’d you learn it?” Gloria arched a brow at him permitting the kiss.  
“I’m good at getting into places.” Billy released her hand and smiled.

“Of course you are, a nice looking, clean cut white guy can in get anywhere he wants.”

“You think I’m nice looking?” Billy bat his lashes at her.

“Not my type, but sure.” Gloria laughed, she leaned on the bar. Billy liked her confidence.

“You’re a heartbreaker Gloria and in a moment I’m going to drink to that fact. I spy Robert now, see that goofy looking guy at the end of the bar, that’s my buddy.”

“He’s more my type.” Gloria leaned on the bar and smiled watching Robert poor drinks.

“I’ll be sure to let him know.” Billy chuckled.

“Don’t you dare.” Gloria gently shoved his shoulder.

“He’s not going to bite you.”

“I’m seeing someone.”

“I don’t see them here, it didn’t stop you from talking to me.”

“Okay, okay, I surrender you can tell him whatever you want, but I’ve got my heart set on someone. And even if I was seeing someone I’d still talk to other men.”

“Fair enough. I’ll keep my mouth shut.” Billy liked Gloria, and that was unusual for him, “So where’s this lucky guy you’re so keen on?”

“You know, I’m pretty sure he left, but I’m surprised he didn’t say goodnight.”

“Huh.” Billy grunted, “That’s not a good sign.”

“He’s complicated you know, quiet about some topics and then chatty about other things, but he’s sweet, very kind and has these big brown eyes that you can just fall into. And he’s guileless, which is rare, you know? Sorry, I’m on my third drink.” Gloria laughed and tossed her curls back.

“What’s Romeo’s name?”

“Steve.”

“Steve, I’ve known a Steve.”

“Yeah, and?”

“Give him a shot, I guess.” Billy felt his mood dip, he didn’t like talking about Steve or thinking about him, but he thought about him everyday if he wanted to or not.

“I will.” Gloria’s dark eyes fixed on Billy, he could see that she was trying to read him.

“Just don’t over think it, you’re gorgeous, smart and very sexy, he’ll be eating out of your hand in no time.”

“I want a boyfriend not a pony!” They both laughed, the mood lightened again.

“Hey man, you made it! Nice.” Robert appeared before them, he was wearing a borrowed vest and bowtie he was nodding and grinning his gaze fixed on Billy.

Billy immediately began regretting coming.

“Yeah, I got off an hour ago, this place is on the way home. Hey, this is Gloria, she’s cool make sure she gets what she needs.”

“Hey Gloria. Any friend of Billy’s alright by me, can I refresh that drink of yours?”

“Sure, just a soda and lime for me.”

“Coming right up.” Robert moved down the bar getting a fresh glass and loading it with ice.

“So what was your Steve like?” Gloria gently nudged Billy with her shoulder.

“My Steve? I didn’t say he was mine.”

“No, I mean the Steve you knew, he had to be a good guy if you’re telling me to give _my_ Steve a shot.”

“Ah, let’s just say he’s the closest thing I’ve ever had to a best friend and I could trust him and that’s rare.”

“My Steve seems pretty trustworthy, too.”

Robert set down a double whiskey for Billy and a soda and lime for Gloria.

“To Steves.” Gloria laughed as Billy clinked his glass to hers.

“Who is Steve?” Robert frowned looking at Billy.

“Hey Bartender?!” A man in an expensive looking suit leaned right into Robert’s view of Billy and Gloria.

Billy was glad he didn’t have to answer, he didn’t feel like talking to Robert about Steve, not even in half truths. Billy decided he wasn’t going to see Robert again after that night, it was getting complicated, not for Billy, but clearly for Robert.

 

**Part 6**

Steve watched as the doorman let his mother into the lobby of her apartment building, she waved over her shoulder as she walked towards the elevator. Steve wished they’d stayed in Hawkins, at least there she had her friends at the country club, she seemed invested in the town, when he was growing up it seemed absurd and boring, but at least she’d been busy.She had liked keeping up with her friends, here it was as if she just locked herself away in a tower. He watched until the elevator doors shut, she looked so small to him, like a doll being put away in a gilded box.

 

Steve turned his thoughts back to the party and collecting his father. Billy. Billy might still be there. Steve’s heart sped up again, he could feel his pulse jumping in his neck. He pulled into traffic aggressively cutting off a taxi driver, he didn’t have to look back to know the guy was flipping him off. The snow fall was heavier than earlier, and if Steve hadn’t been having such a bizarre night he might have thought it was pretty, but in certain lights snowflakes reminded him of the ash in tunnels and it gave him a chill.

 

Steve focused on the thought of Billy Hargrove, it wasn’t hard, the boy he had fallen for, sitting in the dark, eating popcorn while black and white horror films dimly lit the brooding blonde’s face. It had been a Monday night in June. Just the two of them. Steve was still wearing his ridiculous Scoops uniform under a grey hoodie. Billy had been in his faded jeans and an Iron Maiden T-shirt with the sleeves ripped off. The night’s movie had been The Phantom of the Opera, the one with Lon Chaney. It was the third time they’d both been in there alone for the Monday Midnight screening. This time Steve had just thought to hell with it and sat right next to Billy, as if to prove he wasn’t afraid of him, even though he was. What happened kind of shocked Steve, he’d handed Billy his popcorn and Billy had taken a fistful and replied ‘Thanks, you want some of my Coke?’, Billy handed it over without taking his eyes off the screen and Steve took a sip. Steve had sat there, mesmerized for a moment, just watching Hargrove, not knowing what to say or do next, but liking very much what was happening. After a brief moment Billy’s eyes had slid off the screen and traveled over to Steve’s and then snapped back to the movie.

 

After the film they’d walked to the parking lot commenting the film. Steve couldn’t recall what they’d said exactly, but he was certain that neither of them asked personal questions. They just stuck to the topic of the film.They got to Hargrove’s Camaro first. Steve had said something mundane like, ‘it was fun’ and Billy had shocked Steve when he’d said, ‘You’ll be here next Monday.’ Maybe Billy had meant it as a question, but that’s not how it had come out. Steve feeling unsure replied, ‘Unless I’m dead.’ Billy lit a cigarette pausing before shutting the door of his car to say ‘Then don’t die.’ And that had been it, that was how they’d managed to hang out every Monday night for an entire summer.

 

There was a line for the valet parking at St Elmo’s, Steve dug his fingers in his hair and pushed back into the seat. He thumped the steering wheel, but refrained from hitting the horn. The snow was coming down a thicker now. Steve finally got his turn to stop at the Valet station he practically jumped out of the car, the driver handed him his parking stub and Steve moved quickly to the entrance of the restaurant, the door swung open and Steve’s father stepped out into Steve’s path.

“There you are, I’m ready to go. Get the car.” His father sounded drunk and as if he’d been expecting Steve.

“I…” Steve squinted in the restaurant window, wondering if he could double back, maybe take a cab, maybe Billy would still be in there, or better yet, just not go with his dad.

“Hey!” Henry Harrington barked at the valet driver who was starting to pull away in his car, “Hey, hold on kid, we’re leaving, right now.” Steve’s dad was practically yanking on the door of the car, the valet driver looked confused, and the driver behind beeped in frustration when they had to make a hard stop.

“Shuddup!” Mr Harrington bellowed at the offending car.

“Jesus Dad, I’ll drive.” Steve could see his father was in no condition to drive.

“Okay hot shot, let’s go then.” His father slurred and walked around the front of the car. Steve handed the driver the stub back and his last five dollar bill and offered an apology for his father’s behavior.

As he pulled out Steve’s eyes were locked on the rearview mirror, he didn’t want to leave, but he couldn’t let his father drive, he might kill himself or worse kill someone else. The car crawled along in the slow downtown traffic, they’d gone forward maybe thirty feet, that’s when he saw a figure step out from the restaurant, broad shoulders, evident even under a winter coat, a grey beanie, black gloves, Steve couldn’t swear in court that he was looking at Billy’s back, but he felt it in his bones. He’d missed him again.

“Are you watching the road?” His father was yanking at his seat belt and fumbling around in his pockets.

“Yeah.” Steve snapped.

“Well, good.” His father pulled open the glove box and fished around till he found a cigar. Steve wrinkled his nose at the sight of it, he stepped on the gas and then the breaks a harder than necessary when he noticed his father hadn’t bothered to actually buckle his seatbelt and watched him slide low in his seat dropping the unlit cigar.

“Goddamnit, did you get your license out of a Cracker-Jack Box?” His father griped as he felt between the seat and the door searching for the missing cigar.

“I’m putting in my two weeks.” Steve announced.

“What?” His father sat back in his seat and shoved his glasses up his nose, “You’re kidding me. What kind of idiot plan is that, did you get another job? You got something lined up, that you’re qualified for? Huh?”

“Look, I’ll stay through the holidays, I’m happy to start training someone to manage the supply room, keep all the equipment going, the purchase orders, whatever, I can train someone in three days and they’ll figure out the rest.”

“You didn’t answer my question Steve. What’s the new job? Or are you just going to wait for me to send you a check once a month like some kind of deadbeat?”

“I’m not asking you for anything, Okay, I’m letting you know I’m putting in my notice on Monday, two weeks and I’m done.”

“So that’s how it is?”

“Yep.” Steve was starting to shake he was so mad.

“Pull over.”

“You got it.” Steve pulled over and cut the engine. He could tell his father was about to go into one of his, _you-don’t-know-anything-about-life_ speeches and Steve wasn’t having it.

“You’ve just got two blocks to go and you’ve made it home, try not to get in a wreck, because you’re drunk dad. See you on Monday.” Steve got out of the car and slammed the door. The snow was thick and the ground was slick with frost in some places but Steve was furious and walked at a brisk pace, part of him worried he might slip and fall and another part of him didn’t care if he did. He hated that he’d missed Billy, that Bishop had threatened his father’s life when his mother had been there to hear it all, hated that he didn’t know how to tell Gloria that he really liked her, but he’d also never gotten over a boy he fell for one summer over a decade ago, because that sounded sane. Billy Hargrove, Hargrove, Har-grove, Har-grove it was the beat of Steve’s heart and it ached.

 

When Steve finally got home he was half frozen and very hungry. He ordered a pizza and grabbed a notebook and started making a list of what he needed to do over the next two weeks. The first thing on the list was to get boxes and tape, he was going to pack up the apartment, he wanted out of Indianapolis. He wrote Billy’s name, followed by a question mark and then scribbled it out. There was no way Billy wanted to see Steve the way Steve wanted to see him. That was all in the past, Billy had left without a word. Just disappeared. And when Steve had gotten the courage to call, Billy had never returned any of his messages and after leaving ten he just figured Billy was done with him.

 

**Part 7**

 

There were not many people at the station, it was quieter than normal. Billy was standing next to his open locker. A shower was running and a couple of guys were shooting the shit, he knows it’s Bob White and Samuel Rollins. Billy know’s all their voices, he can pick out anyone at the station by their voice, he’s around them often enough and hears them on the radios too. They all gossip, everyone but Billy, which made people alternately trust and suspect him, but Billy didn’t mind. He knew he was good at his job, reliable and quick on his feet and so did everyone else on the force.

When Billy had been parking his motorcycle he noticed that most of the cars were out on patrol and calls. The holidays always got people stirred up, more drinking, more family fights. Lots of domestic violence calls, too many drunk drivers. He changed silently, listening to White and Rollins talking about O’Brien’s promotion, Paul O’Brien had graduated academy at the same time as Billy and he’d moved up the ranks like a greased eel, but that’s just how it was when you had blue blood, there were lots of O’Brien’s active in the Indianapolis Police Department. Billy almost wouldn’t mind the nepotism, but for the fact that Paul was about as smart as a box of rocks. Billy combed his hair in the small shaving mirror attached to his locker, tossed his comb on the shelf and checked for his St Christopher under his shirt, he could feel it when he pressed his fingers over it hidden under layers of shirts. Somedays he didn’t know why he was working in law enforcement, and on those days he was anxious.

“Hey, you’re as quiet as a cat Hargrove.” Rollins walked up beside him, and used Billy’s mirror to check his mustache.

“Hey Rollins.” Billy drawled and stepped around him, patting him on the shoulder with one hand and closing the locker door with the other.

“You should be the one getting that promotion, not O’Brien.” Rollins remarked.

Billy grunted noncommittally.

“I’m serious.” Rollins pressed, “Have they assigned you a new partner yet?”

“Nope, just on rotation with the other patrolmen.”

“They should just make you a training officer, I mean, I know that’s not a real promotion, but you’d be good at it, and it would look good on your resume, know what I’m saying Hargrove?”

“I’d be happy to do it.” Billy had been over this conversation before it began, Rollins was a good enough cop, but not someone Billy wanted in his business.

“Maybe you should talk to the Captain, you know, just tell him you’re interested?”

“What about you Rollins? You’ve put in the time.”

“Me training some rookie? Look Hargrove, if they were all as good as you were from day one I’d do it, it’d be the easiest thing in the world, but you know - most of them a’int so good for the first year.”

“I hear yah. Gotta roll, I’m about to be late.” Billy went out of the locker room, he had plenty of time but Rollins didn’t know that. Billy wanted hot coffee and had some paperwork to go over.

He grabbed the coffee pot and filled up achipped mug. Before he could take his first sip he felt a tap on his shoulder.

“Hey Hargrove, Captain was asking if you were in yet, he’s got some guy in room two, says he wants you in there as soon as you arrive.” Sergeant Rosalee Hernandez tilted her head towards the hall. Billy wondered what was going on, if he was going to be questioned about his former partner, but tried not to show any reaction.

“On my way.” Billy nodded cooly and set the mug down.

“Hey Hargrove.”

“Yes, Sergeant?”

“Have you ever been tested to see if you’re s sociopath?”

“If I was a sociopath, I’d probably be able to get the test results to show what I wanted, wouldn’t I?” Billy smiled warmly and shrugged as he turned away. She didn’t really like him and made sure he knew it.

Room two was a cramped interrogation room, Billy headed right in. Lieutenant Boyd was seated across from a guy that exuded X-Con.

“Lieutenant,” Billy nodded, “I was told Captain Swain wanted me in here.”

“Yeah, I asked him if I could work with you on this. Grab a seat.” Boyd tilted his head to an empty folding chair and turned his eyes to the tatted up man across from him, Boyd set a recorder on, and gestured to the guy across from him, “I want you to tell me everything you just said again, keep all the details, start by stating your name.”

“Uh, my name is John Chen, I’m here because Antonio Bishop asked me to whack some dude’s son.”

“Mr Chen, you’re stating that Antonio Bishop has attempted to hire you to murder someone, is that correct?” Billy tried to keep his tone even and professional, but he could feel the hair on the back of his neck rising, this wasn’t something a Patrolman was usually brought in on, this could be a real opportunity.

“Yeah, yeah.” John nodded.

“What more can you tell me, can you be more specific, what’s the name of the guy he wants you to kill, when did this happen, was it on the phone or in person?” Billy shifted in his seat focusing intently on Chen.

“Mr Chen, just start from the beginning, I know we went over this once, but it’s important we get it all on the recorder and the details might save a life.” Boyd nodded it was meant to be encouraging, or so Billy assumed, but it just felt like Boyd was treating Chen like a child with stage fright.

“Sure, yeah, I got it, Officer, uh, Lieutenant Boyd.” Billy could see pinheads of sweat appearing on the guy’s forehead.“So yesterday, my boss Mr Bishop, like he doesn’t run the shop, but he owns it, he owns a lot of businesses, he comes by and he brings his Lincoln Town Car, it’s a nice car, like brand, brand new, but I guess he got a little dent on the front bumper, so you know, he brings it by to get it fixed up. I’ve been working there like almost six years, you know.Since I got out, he likes me, he talks to me all the time, says he can trust me ‘cause of my history.He jokes that I’m Yakuza, and if I tell him, it’s not like that and that I’m Chinese, he just laughs and tells me I’m not fooling anyone, I mean how Chinese can my name be? But anyways, like I was saying, he just says whatever he wants to me and I just listen. So, it was after lunch, like 1:30, he rolls into the garage and parks his car, and before I can really get a good look at the front bumper to work on it he’s pacing and talking and he’s getting all agitated and getting louder and louder,and he talks a lot man, I’m used to it, but this time, it was different, he’s pissed, like Hulk mad. He says there’s this, ‘um, well he said there’s this cocksucker who thinks that he can fuck him over, and I’m like not sure what to say, so I’m just like, ‘oh man, that guy’s dead’, and then Mr Bishop kinda gets all red faced and he’s kinda ranting, and he’s like ‘see, John, that’s why I know you’re a stand-up guy, you know you how to live in a man’s world and how a man takes care of business’, but that’s the kind of thing he always says, um, and anyways I was just like ‘forget about it Mr Bishop, this fool ain’t nobody’, and then Bishop gets a look in his eyes and he goes, ‘you gotta take care of someone for me, you’re gonna take care of his boy for me, his fuckin’ heir. You gotta fix this for me, or find someone who will.’” John Chen looked at Billy and Lieutenant Boyd with his eyes wide, “That was the oh-shit moment, like this motherfucker isn’t fucking around, know what I’m saying?”

“So what did you say to him, did you tell him you knew someone, or that you’d do it?” Billy leaned in, feeling impatient.

“What no, I mean. I was just like, ‘hey man, I don’t know that scene so well anymore’, I was never a hard roller, but anytime I say that I’m telling you, this guy thinks I’m bullshitting, and he was like, ‘you find me someone, and do it quick and I’ll give you a finders fee, how about a grand?’ and I was thinking, like that’s some serious cheese man, and I could use that kind of dough, but no fuckin’ way, so I said to him I’ll let him know and then this morning I called my parole officer and told him what’s up and now I’m here.” John looked at them both his eyes dancing with nervous energy.

“So he never named the person he wanted killed?”

“Nuh, uh.” John shook his head.

“This is what’s going to happen, we’re going to have you call him, we’ll get you on an unlisted line.” Boyd, sat back, thinking as he spoke, “ try and get the name, but don’t push and have him set up a place and time to meet up, tell him you’ve got someone that’s interested in the job.”

“What if he says okay, like how’s this gonna work?”

“We’re going to have him meet Hargrove here,” Boyd gestured towards Billy, “and he’ll take it from there.”

“Oh shit, yeah. I can do that. Okay,” he looked at Billy, “So you’re like, a, uh…”

“I’m your hitman.” Billy said flatly, despite his pulse quickening at the thought of going undercover.

“Uh, officer Hargrove, you don’t look like a hitman, you don’t look like you’ve ever done crime, you guys got someone, like more…”

Billy slammed his fist on the table and fixed John Chen with a burning glare.  
“I’m your fucking hitman and you tell him, I’m hungry for cash and ready to get shit done.”

“Okay!” John nearly fell back out of his chair.

“Mr Chen,” Lieutenant Boyd soothed, “Hargrove’s got this under control, don’t let his clean cut looks fool you.”

“I see that, yeah, I see it. I didn’t mean any offense.” Chen blinked rapidly still recovering.

“None taken, just making a point.” Billy smiled and winked.

 

**Part 8**

 

It’s been five days since the party and Steve feels more and more like seeing Billy had been a hallucination, he knows it wasn’t but part of him wishes it had been. Steve kept pacing around his one bedroom apartment, from the bedroom, to the bathroom back through the bedroom and into front room which was kind of a kitchen living room mash up. From room to room, he paces the hardwood floor, he turns the tumbler of ice and vodka in his hand and takes a slow drink watching the melting ice-cubes slide around. He turns the glass slowly, and takes another long drink draining the glass and leans on the door frame between his bedroom and the front room. It’s snowing outside again. The city sounds are muted and the light that pours through the window is thin and pale. Steve grabs a roll of packing tape and paces a little more, stepping over a small stack of flat boxes. He’s never been one for clutter, so it’s not a big job to pack up his few possessions. Some part of him had always known that Indianapolis wasn’t going to be his home for long, and he’d always avoided buying things for his place.

The light on his answering machine is blinking, he’s pretty sure it’s another message from his mother, but he doesn’t want to listen to it, he’s also wondering if Gloria’s mad at him, he hadn’t called to set up that date. He hasn’t told Gloria, or anyone that instead of just finding a new job, someplace he’s going to move out of town. He’s not sure where he wants to go, but sometimes when he closes his eyes, he sees himself in California, bright sun, dry, air weekends on the beach, somewhere near the ocean, that’s what he wanted.

Steve sat on the floor, his legs folded, his palms rested in the short fibers of the little area rug near the couch, he can almost feel that California sun on his skin. Steve chuckles softly, he’s never been in California, and part of him had thought, until the night of the party, that maybe, just maybe he’d be walking on some sunny beach and there would be Hargrove, tanned and cock sure, happy to see him and things would just some how fall back into place, like they had never parted that summer. It seemed childish now, especially after seeing Billy in the flesh, a grown man with a hair cut, he hadn’t been wearing an earring anymore, just clean cut and as handsome as the devil.

“Just get away, just go as far as possible, no more family, no more bullshit, fuck this town and Hawkins too.” Steve whispered to the empty room. Steve took a small sip, if he thought about Hawkins for too long, his mind always turned from the light to the dark in a moment, outside of his fleeting summer nights with Billy, all he could think of was the tunnels, the helplessness and the terror, he could almost taste the memory of fear, the monsters coming for him, coming for the kids. Barb’s folded arms and unhappy little smile, her heartbroken parents. Knowing that Bob Newby and others had died in ways too horrible to imagine, but so easy to see when he closed his eyes.

Steve got up and turned on the radio, the first station he tried was playing a horrendous Christmas song as covered by some alt band, he didn’t listen long enough to identify the offending musicians, he dialed up and down, navigating away from holiday medleys, weather reports, political debates and fervent preachers. He opted to put his CD player on shuffle and sat back on the floor. He was surrounded by small piles of things that needed sorting, things to keep, things to donate, stuff for recycling and things to trash.It’s pretty fast work and he’s feeling good about his progress. He focuses on the chore and thinks of nothing else, till he comes across his senior yearbook, it had been hidden in a stack of magazines, somewhere between RollingStone, Spin and Architecture Monthly it had been waiting like a sleeping snake. Steve drew back his hand, and then sighed, and plucked it off the ground, he flips through the pages till he comes across Billy Hargrove mid shot on the court, he’s pretty sure Jonathan took the photo. The page isn’t exactly marked, or dog-earred, but he’s clearly flipped open to it often enough over the years that the book practically falls open to the page.During High School they’d never become friends, not by a long shot. It had just felt like an unspoken truce. They never talked about the fight, or anything to do with the night at the Byers’. Steve flipped a few more pages till he found another picture of Billy, he ran his fingers over the black and white grainy image, tracing the two dimensional counterfeit of glossy paper feeling confounded that such a primitive reproduction of the boy he still carried a torch for could evoke such painful longing. Steve threw the yearbook in the trash bag angrily.

He wasn’t going to live in the past, and he wasn’t going to chase someone who so clearly didn’t want to be caught. He emptied his glass and crunched on the ice. Steve took a break from packing and laid on his bed, he was tired, but not sleepy. The more he tried not to think about the past the more he did. He’s not sure if it’s the alcohol, his mind or his heart, but all he can think about is Nosferatu and Summer rain, and being locked in Billy Hargrove’s embrace.

 

**Part 9**

 

Steve had been looking forward to Nosferatu since he saw it on the theater calendar for Mondays Midnight Monster Madness! It was the 2nd Monday of July and the air was thick with pending summer rain. Steve had come straight from the mall, he’d pulled a hoodie over his work shirt and practically ran into the theater he was so excited, if he was honest with himself, he was also excited to see Billy.

At first the midnight movies had been the one thing that made Mondays at the mall bearable, but now, the best parts of Monday nights was hanging out with Billy Hargrove. Steve walked across the thinning red carpeting of the theater, the concession stand lady was waiting patiently behind the counter, she was ancient, Steve guessed seventy. She perked up as soon as he wandered over.

“So you’re back! It’s Nosferatu tonight, followed by the Cabinet of Doctor Caligari, these things scared the tar out of me when I was a kid.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve been waiting.” Steve smiled, he couldn’t help it, knowing he was about to see Billy was making him giddy. Steve hadn’t had a friend that was his peer in a while, sure Jonathan was cool, but things still felt a little weird, and now that he was done with high school, he never really saw anyone - except when they stopped by Scoops. Old classmates would wander in with their little brothers and sisters and either mocked him, or act like they didn’t know him.

“Large Cherry Coke and a large popcorn?” She grabbed the popcorn scoop not waiting for his answer.

“Yeah, and can you throw in some Reeces Pieces?” Billy had been eating those the last night they’d sat together, so he had to get those.

“Sure thing, we’ve got those.” She nodded to herself filling up his popcorn bag.

“And some Red Vines, please.” Steve remembered that Billy had been eating those the week before.

“Anything else?” She asked pleasantly.

“No, that’s it. Thanks.”

“Well, if you get a hankering for anything else the concession counter will be open for the intermission, that’s only ten minutes and then we close for the night, so don’t forget if you want more snacks.” She nodded at him.

“I’ll remember.” Steve fished a couple bills out of his wallet and looked around. “It’s been pretty dead this summer.”

“Well, the StarCourt has that fancy multiplex theater.” She sighed as she ran the register.

“I like this theater better.”

“Do you?” She asked hopefully handing him his change.

“Yeah are you kidding? Best service for miles.” Steve smiled at her and she giggled.

“Best customers that’s for sure. Where’s your friend?”

“What?”

“The blonde boy, well I guess he’s usually late, and you’re always early.”

“Oh, yeah.” Steve nodded, he could feel his cheeks burning, he collected his snacks and his drink and nodded. As he walked to his favorite isle, to get in his favorite chair all he could think was that Billy would come, Billy would be there, but there was a part of him that was nervous that Billy would just stop coming and then they’d stop talking, because when else did he see him? He thought he shouldn’t be surprised that the little steel haired concession lady thought Billy was his friend, well, because he was, or was becoming and even if they never arrived together they usually always walked out together, chatting about the movie, the good parts, and sometimes laughing hysterically over the extra cheesy parts, which were kind of the best parts … there was also the fact that no one else was coming to the shows, it was as if the Hawk was on reserve for Billy and Steve on Monday nights. It should feel creepy, he told himself, but it felt kind of magical. Steve sat trying to think of something smart to say about why Nosferatu was cool, but every time he imagined talking to Billy he would just get distracted thinking about his voice, his feral grin, or the ridiculous way he seemed to get more popcorn on his lap than in his mouth, and that at first it had been annoying, but now it was just cute, it was cute to watch Billy stand up a the end of the movie and watch the popcorn fall off his lap in a little flurry of white crumbs, sometimes he’d even have to shake them out of his shirt.

When Billy finally turned up he’d startled Steve; Steve had been ruminating on Billy and what exactly was going on between them, like of course they were just becoming friends, and they were putting all the silly drama of high school behind them. He also was wondering if Max had ever given in to the temptation to tell Billy what was really happening at the lab, the girl Jane, and poor Will. Steve wasn’t even sure if Max and Billy were on speaking terms.

“Did’jah save me any popcorn?”

“Shit!” Steve’s frame jolted.

“Don’t tell me this movie has you spooked already!” Billy snickered as he sat down heavily in the seat beside him.

“No. I didn’t see you come in. Here.” Steve handed Billy the open box of Reece’s Pieces, he’d opened it, but hadn’t eaten in, he wanted Billy to think that Steve just happened to have bought them for himself, but really he just wanted to give them to Billy. Steve felt his stomach flop as Billy took the box and poured a couple in his hands.

“Thanks.” Billy threw him a quick smile and hunkered down in his seat. The seats were older and close, a pleasantly warm space grew between them where their shoulders were touching, their knees occasionally lightly bumped. Steve had grown to love this casual contact with Billy.

Steve couldn’t believe how slow the film was, he wanted it to be over so he could just talk to Billy. It was pretty and kind of artsy, but the story was taking a million years to unfold. Steve twisted in his seat, he sipped at the Cherry Coke and passed it to Billy. Billy’s tongue played with the straw a little bit before he clamped it between his lips. Steve watched, a warm pool was growing low in his belly, the longer he looked at Billy the hotter he felt. He’d never really felt that from just looking at a guy, sure touching, but just looking? Steve bumped Billy’s knee deliberately just to make contact. Billy snorted softly and pressed his palm over Steve’s knee and squeezed it, his fingers lingering before he shoved it away.

“Stay on your side, ya seat hog.” Billy whispered without ire, his voice soft, the corner of his mouth curling, his bright blue eyes silver colored in the screen’s flickering light.

“You’re not the boss.” Steve pressed his sneaker against the side of Billy’s boot, sliding Billy’s foot away.

“Yeah, I am.” Billy joked, and he hooked his ankle across Steve’s.

“Ugh.” Steve grunted as he tried to get he foot free.

“I got you, Peter Rabbit.” Billy laughed.

“Peter Rabbit?” Steve chuckled and looked at Billy for an explanation.

“Just something my mom would say.” Billy smiled softly, his eyes arching with the smile, it was the sweetest expression Steve had ever seen on the boy.

“Oh.” Steve smiled back, he could feel his eyes dancing over Billy’s face, he couldn’t help it, _that’s a face I could fall in love with_ , Steve took a sip of his Cherry Coke, not knowing what to do with the thought that ran through his head. Steve kept waiting for Billy to lift his ankle, to let Steve’s foot loose, but he didn’t he kept it there.

There was a ten minute intermission between films, Billy said he’d seen the Cabinet of Dr Caligari before.

“Do you want to leave, I mean if you do that’s okay.”

“What, no. It’s so much better than Nosferatu.” Billy scoffed.

“You really like these films?” Steve was kind of embarrassed that he liked old horror films, they weren’t as gory or sexy as the modern ones, and clearly not at all popular by the number of empty seats all around them.

“Yeah, Harrington. I’m not here for… nothing.” Billy shook the popcorn container looking away from Steve.

Steve was pretty sure Billy had been about to say, I’m not here for _the_ _company_.

“I really like them,” Steve struggled to find the right words,“I mean I know they’re corny and everything, like not nearly as cool as newer stuff, maybe they’re like kid stuff in comparison. I just, I like them, they feel… different.”

Steve didn’t know what the word was that he wanted, it was different but that didn’t explain it enough, he didn’t want bright red blood splattered across the screen, and terrified screams and cries… all that was too real for him.

“It’s not kid stuff. I like them and I’m not a fucking kid.” Billy shifted leaning his shoulder into Steve’s, his ankle still wrapped over the brunette’s,“And I like hanging out with you.” Billy reached over and snatched the Red Vine that Steve had had dangling out of the corner of his mouth, he’d been just kind of sucking on it in thought, and was surprised when Billy folded it and popped it in his mouth.

“You know there’s still some fresh ones in the box.” Steve laughed, he was caught off guard by what Billy had said and by what just he’d done.

They sat in silence for the first ten minutes of the second film, Steve was tired from work, and he’d not slept all that well the night before. He’d kept being awoken by sounds, not sure if he’d dreamt them or if they’d been real. He leaned into Billy’s arm, as he sunk a little lower in his chair, he liked the feeling of the weight of Billy’s ankle and calf wrapped across his shin.

“What’s a somnambulist?” Steve asked, squinting at the text on the screen, he said the word slowly feeling certain he was saying it wrong.

“It’s like a sleep walker, just watch.” Billy answered his voice low. Steve thought Billy sounded like he was getting tired too.

The air in the theater was still and a little stuffy, despite the place being empty, it had the heavy scent of dusty fabric, popcorn and stale cigarette smoke from the lobby. Steve watched the movie, it seemed more like a living black and white cartoon than a film, his eyes were heavy.

“Hey pretty boy, wakey-wakey.” Billy’s voice was gentle, his hand was on the top fo Steve’s thigh, gently patting it.

“I’m awake.”

“Don’t freak out, but I think you’re a somnambulist.” Billy teased.

“I’m not, I don’t think. I don’t know.” Steve realized he was snuggled into Billy’s shoulder, but more importantly where Billy’s hand was rested. His skin was hot under the touch, the tip of Billy’s thumb was just under the hem of Steves’s shorts. Steve could feel an ache and surge in his balls.

“What did I miss?” Steve looked up at the screen, there was crowd of black and white men jostling around on the screen.

“All the major parts.” Billy’s voice wasa little lower and huskier than normal.

“Is that all.” Steve said lightly, he reached down and rested his hand on Billy’s.

“C’mon sleeping beauty, let’s get outta here.”

“Yeah, I guess we might as well, sorry I fell asleep.” Steve felt Billy’s hand slip out from under his and lift away from his thigh, it was pure torture.

“Gimmie your Red Vines and all is forgiven.” Billy teased.

“Deal.” Steve handed Billy the box and got up, his right leg was half asleep from being under Billy’s and he was pretty sure he’d been drooling on Billy’s shoulder, but the other boy didn’t mention it. As Steve stood up he pulled his the waist of his hoodie low on his hips, doing his best to hide his blooming erection.

As they walked through the lobby they passed the manager, he was sleeping in a chair by the doors, his snore audible. Steve figured the concessions stand lady was probably also the projectionist. Most of the lights in the theater had been turned off. As soon as they stepped outside the static sound of heavy rain was all around them. A summer storm had hit, and it was coming down steadily.

“Fucking rain.” Billy grunted around the cigarette he was lighting.

“Yeah.” Steve straightened up, feeling more awake, he could see Billy’s Camaro parked next to his BMW, It was only across the street, they could be in their cars in under a minute if they jogged. Steve looked up at the marquee and walked to the edge of the covering.

“It’s not too bad, I mean, it’s kind of nice. At least it’ll suck up all the humidity.”

“Not really in the mood to get rained on.” Billy griped.

“Why, are you going to melt?”

“Are you calling me a witch?”

“I mean, if the broom fits.”

“Fuck you, Harrington. I’ll show you wear the broom fits.” Billy charged at Steve, but they were both laughing, Billy grappled him around the waist and twisted him towards the rain, Steve held on and pulled Billy out of from under cover with him. They turned, wrestling for domination, their shoes sliding on the wet concrete, their laughter muted by the falling rain. Billy tried to take out Steve’s leg, but Steve saw it coming and just hooked his opposite leg over Billy’s hip making him stumble back and fall against the side of a parked card.

“You’re a bastard.” Billy was laughing, “You’re so dead.” He could barely get the threat out he was laughing so hard, his face damp, diamonds of water collecting on his lashes, his smile broad and his wicked tongue licking the water off of his lips, Steve felt dizzy, he’d never wanted anyone so badly in his life. Steve lunged forward pinning him.

“No one can escape his destiny!” Steve hissed like a campy vampire and pretended to bite Billy’s neck.

The rain doubled in intensity, the heart of the storm was now over Hawkins. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and then the lightning turned everything pale green for just a second.

“You’re a dumbass Harrington!” Billy was nearly howling with laughter, “You’re going to drown me, you dick!” Billy sputtered and nearly folded with laughter squirming beneath Steve.

“The precious blood!” Steve turned his head and pretended to bite the opposite side of Billy’s neck, his lips made light contact near Billy’s throat, Steve stole a taste of salt off of the skin with the tip of his tongue, then parted his lips and gave a gentle suckling kiss to the front of Billy’s throat. Billy’s laughter stopped, he arched his back and squeezed Steve closer, his arms tight, their hearts pounding in tandem, making Steve feel savagely hungry, but not for blood.

Billy rolled Steve against the side of the car and kissed him, his tongue sliding in, his hands riding up underneath Steve’s shirt, his fingers pressing as if to pry him apart. Billy’s hips ground into Steve’s, they twisted and rolled against one another, the smell of heavy summer rain, and musty asphalt surrounded Steve, but it was nothing in comparison to the sensation of Billy on top of him, their erections, sliding and pressing against Billy’s old ratty jeans and beneath Steve’s ridiculous shorts. When Billy came up for air from the kiss, his eyes were half-mast and his curls were hanging darkly around his face, jewels of water were hanging on the ends of wild strands.

“Jesus.” Steve gasped, he was practically dumb struck by the sight of Billy Hargrove. Billy turned his head, looking up and down the street, it was nearly three in the morning and they were all alone.

“Come here, come on.” Steve grasped Billy’s hand, it felt strong in his, hard boned and still warm despite the rain. He squeezed and hauled Billy towards his Beemer. Steve unlocked the door to the back seat and opened it, he turned back to Billy not sure how to persuade him to get in, he didn’t need to, Billy practically shoved him in and crawled in after him, and then on top of him.

“I want you.” Billy said breathlessly, everything seemed so quiet in the car compared to the when they’d been out in the rain, it made Steve shiver, or maybe that had just been the cold, but really Steve knew it was because of what Billy had just said.

“I want you too, Billy.” Steve grasped Billy’s hair, pulling him closer. Billy shifted his hips and wrestled with his belt and then his fly, he grasped Steve’s shorts and yanked them down with his briefs.

“Oh.” Steve gasped, he wasn’t used to aggressive lovers, or them being nearly the same size as him, and maybe a bit heavier too. His heart was rocketing, his cock was stiff and aching.

“Should I…” Billy’s question went unfinished, he reached between them and wrapped his hand around Steve’s cock and stroked from base to tip and down again.

“ _Fuuuck_.” Billy purred into Steve’s ear, “Your cock, it’s fucking perfect.” Billylicked Steve up the side of his neck, his wet locks of hair tickling Steve’s face.

Steve arched and moaned into Billy’s neck, he reached between them and pressed his hands around Billy’s cock, their hands overlapping, sliding against one another and rolling their hips till their timing aligned.

“Slow down.” Steve whispered, he’d never done this, he’d done other things with guys, but this was different, and it was Billy. He wanted to enjoy it. Steve released himself and brought his hand up to his mouth and turned his head and spit into his palm, he quickly pressed his hand back down between them.

“Slower?” Billy muttered, he breath teased against the skin of Steve’s neck making him arch and murmur incoherently.

Steve rolled slowly up, letting his fingers work up and down the lengths of their cocks, let his finger tips gently prod at the head of Billy’s cock till Billy shivered or twisted, he liked the coarse and silken feel of Billy’s hair against his knuckles, and traced his fingers over Billy’s balls making him jump and tense and writhe.

“Holy shit, Harrington.” Billy arched and rolled, “Your hands.” His voice trembled lightly, and his hips thrust harder, and then steadier. Steve shuttered beneath him, losing his focus entirely, all finesse went out the window.

Neither of them spoke, their bodies moving, ravenous and hot, Steve could feel his skin sticking against the leather of the seats where his hoodie had rolled up his back, his thigh against the back rest, the graze of Billy’s facial hair against his neck was maddening. When Billy reached up and grabbed and handful of Steve’s hair and pulled his head back it startled him, but then Billy was kissing him up his neck so gently, nipping and licking and suckling at his flesh - Steve tried to hold back, he squeezed Billy to him, as if pinning Billy on top of himself could help him keep from coming.

“Now you slow down.” Billy warned breathlessly, he shifted up releasing his grip and spit into his own palm and then pushed himself back, just enough to kiss Steve, it was hot and messy their tongues and teeth sliding against each other’s lips, Billy bit a little hard, but then kissed Steve softly in lieu of an apology, Steve returned the kiss, a tender slow deep echo of the rushed hot kisses the preceded it. Billy’s hand was working them both again, Steve relinquished control and pulled at Billy’s hips. That’s when he felt Billy come up his stomach, Steve couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, feeling triumphant and excited. He turned away feeling the fire and shudder of his own body giving in and releasing on Billy.

 

Tuesday morning Steve stumbled into work, he couldn’t stop thinking about Billy, him and the word somnambulist, it was as if that’s what he’d been until last night. Just sleepwalking through his sad little life, till Billy Hargrove and kissed him awake.

“Oh god, I’m fucking Snow White.” Steve grumbled as he scooped some ice cream for a couple of junior high students.

“ _Who_ are you fucking?” Robin whispered as she walked by.

“What, no, I was just. Yeah, never mind.” Steve handed the kids their ice cream cones. He was glad she was running the register, the last thing he wanted to do was worry about handling cash, he was in a fog, or maybe just under Billy Hargrove’s spell.

When things slowed down he could feel feel Robin’s eyes on him.

“Did you go to that midnight monster thing again?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Because you’re a total space cadet today.”

“Oh, well. I’m just a little tired, and it’s not like this is rocket science.” Steve said peevishly.

“Go take a break, drink a coke or something, you’re grumpy.” Robin wrinkled her nose at him.

“Yeah. Sorry, um, good idea.” Steve nodded. He wanted to leave early, but knew it would be a dick move to abandon Robin there till one of the closers showed up.

 

Steve wandered out to the fountain, and sat down next to an ashtray. He lit up and took a long drag and a swig of his coke. He smiled softly thinking about Billy, but he felt a bit melancholic about it too. What if that was it, after what had happened what if Billy just stopped coming around?

“You got a light, pretty boy?” Billy sat down next to him, it was as if Steve had wished him there.

“Yeah.” Steve leaned over and lit Billy’s cigarette.

“What are you doing here?” Steve had never actually seen Billy in the mall.

“I was at your shop and your girlfriend said you were on break.” Billy gestured at Scoops and then at Steve.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Steve was about to ask if Billy wanted her number but he didn’t get a chance.

“Good.” Billy said the word good like it was the end of fight they were having.

“Do you like her?” Steve asked feeling confused.

“No, dumbass.”

“Hey.” Steve frowned, he was too tired for this shit.

“Really, you still think I’m into _chicks_?” Billy practically spat the word ‘chicks’.

“Maybe you like both.” Steve held his palms up, but thought better of saying, ‘I do.’

“Nope.” Billy blinked slowly, and then frowned. “Do you?”

“Yeah, but like, one at a time.” Steve blinked and frowned the thought of two lovers was kind of terrifying, like how would that work and no thank you.

“So no ménage à trois?” Billy chortled.

“What?”

“Never mind.”

“I mean, when I like someone, I’m with that one person.”

“I wasn’t asking for your fucking fealty.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Forget it.”

“You think I’m stupid don’t you? Well it seems to be the popular opinion, must be true.” Steve threw up his hands in frustration.

“You’re not stupid.”

“Sure.”

You’re a little annoying though.”

“That’s great, that’s so much better.” Steve started to stand up, his face was hot, he had wanted to see Billy so bad and now he just wanted to die. He felt Billy’s hand land heavily on his thigh.

“Sit down.”

“What do you mean no menagerie?” Steve looked at Billy, he could tell Billy was trying not to laugh, which just made Steve feel worse.

“It was a dumb joke, a ménage à trois,it’s a three way, you know, like you me and some chick.”

“Oh.” Steve blushed furiously. Now he felt like a full fledge idiot, and “that other word, fealty?” Might as well keep asking, no point in fronting anything at this point.

“Fealty, from fidelity, you know like fido,” Billy sighed,“It’s from fidēlis, a Latin word, loyalty? Like uh…” Billy started to blush now. “I was saying, you don’t have to like promise me, uh anything, because of last night, it was, like no big deal.”

“It was a big deal, to me.”

“It was?” Billy asked a little breathlessly.

“Yes.”

They sat in an awkward silence, Steve smoked his cigarette down to the butt. The piped music was making Steve feel small and pointless, like he was just an intermission in Billy’s life.

“I’ve gotta get back to work. Billy, why’d you come?”

“I wanted to make sure we’re cool.”

“Yeah, we are, right?” Steve asked hopefully.

“Yeah. Um, how’s work going?” Billy looked everywhere but at Steve, he seemed nervous.

“I hate it. How about you?”

“The hardware store is boring, and I give my dad more than half my check. I go to work and then when I get home it’s look after Max, take care of the yard, wash the cars, help Susan with whatever, she’s not even _my_ mother, I fucking hate it. And I hate him, I hate my dad, whenever I get halfway out from under his thumb he just yanks me back under.” It was the most Billy had ever said about his home life.

“That’s bullshit. You should move out, you know. Get a real job like a good job, not retail.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, my grandpa said that when you feel helpless the best thing to do is help others, that’s why he enlisted.”

“Are you saying I should enlist?”

“No, no, but like that kind of work, where you help people, like a fireman, or like Hopper, or a doctor or something.

“You think I’m smart enough to be a doctor?”

“Think? I know it. You’re the guy throwing around French and latin.”Steve nudged Billy’s knee with his own. Billy was silent for a bit, and Steve started to feel nervous all over again.

“Robin’s gonna need help, I really better go.” Steve got up, he wished everyone would just vanish, everyone but Billy and they could just be around each other, left alone to do whatever they wanted, whatever Billy wanted.

“Thanks, Harrington.” Billy’s voice was low, he seemed distracted.

“See you Monday?” Steve asked feeling anxious.

“It’s a date.” Billy replied softly with a small quirk of his lips, something close to a secret smile, it made Steve’s heart jump.

 

**Part 10**

 

Lieutenant Boydshowed Billy how to tape the wire down using medical tape, and spoke quietly and authoritatively in a calm manner.

“So you went over the interview notes?”

“Yes, sir."

“You read what we got on Bishop?”

“Yes sir, he’s kind of a big fish.”

“He wants to be, I’d say medium, he might lead us to bigger. But don’t worry about that, once we get him on Conspiracy for Murder we’ll get the good stuff from him when he’s trying to make a deal.”

“Copy that.” Billy answered cooly, although it made him mad, Boyd was already toying with the idea of giving Bishop a lighter sentence for information. The guy was out to kill someone’s kid and this was Boyd’s line of thought. Billy drew a slow breath and reminded himself that he was helping people, he was going to save some guys life and he couldn’t worry about how the so called justice system was going to workout the aftermath.

“Alright Hargrove, you know how it’s done, go get John Chen wired up, he probably won’t be in the vehicle with you, but in the off chance that he is I want him being useful.”

“Yes sir.” Billy collected the extra wire and walked out of the room to the one next door where Chen was waiting. He looked ashen and sweaty.

“Hey, Mr Chen, you ready.”

“Yeah. I guess.”

“Good.” Billy nodded, he’d wanted to says something encouraging but couldn’t think of jack shit to say so he just got him wired as quickly as possible.

“What if Bishop finds out, what if like he sees I’m wired, or whatever?”

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” Billy squeezed Chen’s shoulder, “You’re on my team now, that means I’ve got your back, you got that?”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks, thanks.”

“This is easy, don’t overthink it.”

“Right, right.” Chen was already sweating bullets, which wasn’t good. It was winter and a sweaty X-con was going to make Bishop jumpy.

“Hey, listen, if you feel yourself sweating when you’re talking to Bishop, just say you’ve got the flu. You got that?”

“Yeah, I got it. Okay. I got the flu.”

“Perfect. Alright let’s go, it’s show time.” Billy tried to keep his tone light, his stomach was in knots and it was still thirty minutes till their scheduled meeting with Bishop.

After they were both ready for the field, Lieutenant Boyd went over some simple instructions again, it was clearly more for Chen. After that the two of them got in an unmarked car, and cut across town, to the meeting place.

Billy was feeling charged, this was a big deal. If everything worked out in his favor he could get a promotion finally. Respect was great, but it wasn’t doing anything for his wallet, he needed to move up in the force. He’d been paying off his step sister’s student loans, and sending her a little extra when he could. Max needed her freedom too, needed to cut ties from Neil, like Billy had, but of course Max was loyal to her mother, but as far as Billy was concerned the only family he had was Max. It had taken him a long time to realize how much she meant to him, to realize it was okay to love her, that loving her didn’t make him love the memory of his mother any less. Billy was going to nail Bishop. The last thing that Lieutenant Boyd had said to him stuck in his head.

“Congratulations Hargrove, you’re a UC now, don’t fuck it up.”

“Yes Sir.”

On the drive there Chen remained silent, Billy could tell he was freaking out so he decided to try and calm him down a bit.

“Okay John, keep it simple.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Introductions and then what?”

“I shut my pie-hole.”

“If he gets in the car what do you do?”

“I make introductions and then I keep my mouth shut.”

“If he asks me to get in his vehicle?”

“I sit tight and don’t stare at you guys, I mind my own business.”

“Right, this is simple. Just breath, if he sees you sweating or you feel yourself sweating, what do you say?”

“I say I got the flu.”

“That’s right.” Billy nodded as he drove the car into the parking lot just behind some warehouses near the river. He didn’t see any other cars, so there was no way the surveillance van could follow them without being noticed. He watched in the rearview mirror as the unmarked car drove past, they’d come to the same conclusion.

“Where is he?” Chen looked at his watch.

“Relax.” Billy said, he tilted his head back and took some slow breaths regulating his heart, he needed to be calm. He thought about all the times his father had shouted in his face trying to get a reaction out of him, tried to push his buttons and called him a faggot. Billy had gotten through it almost every time without fighting back, that was how he’d get through this, _no reactions, no nerves, just stay calm and cold, numb and methodical,_ Billy ran the secret mantra through his mind over and over, breathing slowly.

 

Billy opened his eyes when he heard the sound of tires on gravel. He glanced in the rearview mirror and saw a large white Cadillac rolling in.

“That’s him, that’s him.” Chen sounded like he was going to have an aneurysm.

“Stay in the car.” Billy said, Chen was too much of a risk. Billy got out of the car and stalked towards Bishops big boat of a Cadillac. He wrapped on the passenger window and then lit a smoke. The window rolled down smoothly, its tinted window mirroring Billy as it wound down.

“You Michael?”

“Yeah that’s right.” Billy lied easily taking a drag off his cigarette, he could feel heat blowing out of the open window, the odor of cigars and musk of cologne were enough to make Billy queasy.

“Well Mikey, it’s fucking freezing get in the damned car.” Bishop unlocked the doors and Billy got into the passengers seat.

“So, Chen says you got work for me.” Billy prompted.

“Damn straight I do. I don’t want this fucker to know what happened. I want him to spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder, that little shit is never going to feel safe another day in his life.”

“Wait a minute, is this a hit or am I just breaking some bones here?” Billy groused and threw up his hands, he wasn’t one to normally talk with his hands but he was full of nervous energy.

“You’re getting your wires crossed Bambino, I want you to take care of his kid, see? You’re gonna fix up the _son_ of the _son-of-a-bitch_ that fucked with my resources, got that?” Bishop clasped his palms as if in prayer,“I can’t have this lead back to me, and it might be that some people know how I’m feeling about my enemy, but what they can’t pin on me is if his little boyo turns up dead. Got that?”

“Got it.” Billy sat back and took a drag on his cigarette, he wanted names, but Bishop was taking his sweet time about the details.

“You’re gonna find this asshole’s yuppy son and make him go away.”

“How much are you going to pay me to make this little problem of yours go away?”

“You get a grand and not a penny more.”

“Fine.”

“Make it look like a robbery gone south. Shoot him in the gut, I want him to bleed, but if he takes too long, just unload the thing into his face.”

“That’s gonna get noisy, I might need a silencer.” Billy drawled casually.

“You’re the professional, just do the job and get me a damn Polaroid too.”

“That’s kind of risky.”

“You think I’m gonna rat on you?” Bishop elbowed him grinning dead eyed like a shark.

“So you don’t want him just fucked up, you want him dead and you want a souvenir?”

“You think you’re smooth, mentioning the silencer and the risk? I got your number, Mikey boy.” Bishop laughed hollowly and Billy felt a chill jag up his spine.

“You’re fishing for more cash, fine, I respect that. Let’s round up, it’s almost Christmas and I’m feeling generous. Two grand. You’re alright kid.”

“Shit, Merry Christmas to me.” Billy chuckled, letting out some nervous energy, “So where do I find this guy, you haven’t even told me his name.”

“I’ll get you the address and the cash real soon. You’re legit right, you look a little young for this line of work.”

“I’m ahead of the curve and I need money.” Billy said dryly.

“Yeah, you look like a choir boy, a regular little angel of death. Meet me here tomorrow night, at 10, then you’ll have your money and the address, and you’ll do what I need done, right?”

“I’m you guy.”

“Good, now beat it.”

Billy got out of the car, frustrated he’d not gotten a name, or the cash, he needed more to get it set up that Bishop couldn’t wiggle out of the charges. He slammed the heavy door and started walking back to where Chen was waiting, chain smoking in the car.

“Hey Mikey, take this, I want you to make sure you get the right yuppy.” Bishop had rolled down the driver’s side window, Billy tracked back and saw that Bishop was waving a picture at him. Billy took the photo, he expected to see some baby faced college kid, maybe a doughy dweeb in golfing clothes, or a slimy douchebag in a tux, but instead he’s staring at a photograph of Steve Harrington walking with his head tilted down a little, wrapped in a heavy coat, his thick hair windswept, his expression pensive. Billy’s heart falls into his gut and a flop sweat breaks out on his brow even with the icy breeze blowing off the river.

“The kind of mug you wanna smash ain’t it?” Bishop brayed a jarring laugh. Billymanaged a grunt and a show of teeth, he hopes the grimace passes as a wolfish lear.

“See you tomorrow night Mikey, don’t be late! You’re gonna be my Santa Claus! HA!” Bishop pulled out of the parking lot. As Billy walked towards his car, he couldn’t feel his legs.

 

**Part 11**

 

Steve walked from the bedroom and back to the main room, it was a short trip, he paced for a moment, holding a couple freshly laundered shirts he added them to a pile of things to pack. He tossed a hideous Hawaiian shirt into a donation box, it had been a gift from his mother and he’d been hesitant for years to get rid of it.

He settled down on the floor and dragged a broken down box over to his side, it had been hidden for years under his bed. He picked out stack of check stubs and tossed them in the trash box. There was a letter it was dated 1988, shortly before his grandfather had passed. He turned it in his fingers, and then gently laid it in a box of things to be kept. His grandfather had always been kind, alway encouraged Steve and doted on him, the loss still stung all these years later. Steve tossed a few more things, random cards and certificates that had seemed significant when he’d first moved out of Hawkins. A pale yellow sheet that had been torn from a legal pad caught his eye. He felt his stomach flutter and he carefully unfolded it. The first time he’d read it, it had been the end of summer, it had been waiting for him on the windshield of his BMW. It had been Wednesday, August twenty-first, it wasn’t dated, but Steve remembered.

Steve gently unfolded it. When he’d read it he hadn’t know that Billy had left Hawkins. Billy hadn’t signed it. Steve held it under the porch light, rereading it over and over again, just like he was reading it now;he knew what it said, had never forgotten.

_“We won’t ever be anything, but you’ll always be everything to me.”_

Steve had folded it and unfolded it over the years, it opened and closed easily, the creases well worn. Not for the first time Steve wondered if it was a cruel joke, part of him yearned for it to be true, that he had been, maybe still was everything to Billy. A confession of Billy’s enigmatic heart. A secret so buried that he’d never say the words aloud to Steve. But then why did he leave? Why couldn’t they be anything?

 

The last night Steve had been in New York with Jon and Nancy, Jonathan and Steve had stayed up until three in the morning, getting high on the roof top. Steve had attempted to explain it to Jonathan, but hadn’t really wanted to ask the question and be obvious about what he was really talking about. Jonathan had listened, trying to follow the loop of Steve’s question.

“I’m not really sure who you’re talking about, but, like, it’s like, it’s simple, I think if you’re saying what I think you’re saying.”

“Nothing’s simple.” Steve had half snorted half laughed and felt tears caught in the back of his throat, he hoped Jonathan would just assume his eyes were glassy from all the smoke.

“Would you rather regret getting laughed at or not knowing?”

In that moment Steve hadn’t been sure what his answer was, but tonight he did, tonight felt urgent.Steve picked up an old notebook, it was folded in half buried in his box of miscellaneous papers. The spiral wire was crush and it was almost impossible to open it. He flipped to the back page where a list of telephone numbers were scrawled in his messy writing. He ran his finger down the list until it landed on Mad Max. Steve leaned across the coffee table and grabbed his cordless phone and dialed the number, his fingers were shaking.

A husky voice answered from the other end of the line, there wasa TV blaring in the background, “Hargroves.”

“Hi, hello, um my name’s Steve, is Billy in?”

“Billy?” There was a long stream of wet coughs and a heavy wheeze that followed, He’s not lived here for a decade, what did he do?”

“Nothing, um we were friends, back in high school.”

“I didn’t know he had any, are you sure?” The voice had taken a nasty tone and Steve was certain it was Neil Hargrove.

“Yeah, um Mr Hargrove, I’m trying to get in touch with him, it’s…” Steve wanted to say an emergency.

“Well he’s flown off to fairyland.” Neil cut him off and clumsily slammed down the phone, it clattered and clicked before the line completely cut. Steve held the phone away from his ear, listening to the dial tone until it started beeping.

 

 

**Part 12**

 

 

Billy drove back to the station, John Chen was as pale as paper.

“Did it work, are you gonna arrest him? He can’t just be cut loose, I’ll lose my job, Jesus, he’s gonna put a hit on me.”

“Relax John, like I said, you’re on my team now and I’ve got your back.”

“Right, thanks. Okay, okay, I’m relaxing.” John’s knee jostled like a rabbit thumping away. Billy turned on the stereo and turned it up, not wanting Chen to ask him anything, or to say anything. Billy tucked the photo into his shirt. His heart was thudding, his mind racing.

“The wire didn’t pick up squat, I think it was the mic. John’s worked just find, I can hear him rustling around in the car and talking to himself, but yours was a dud.” Lieutenant Boyd shrugged, “Things go wrong in the field, you’re gonna learn that now that you’re doing UC work. Good news is you are going to be meeting with him again. Just get Bishop to say it all again, when you get the address and the cash, it’s perfect really, you’ll have the evidence and he’ll reveal the target. It’s a cake-walk Hargrove. We can’t go after him now, all we’ve got is your word and Chen’s against his, the bastard will get off on entrapment, innocent until proven guilty and all that bullshit. A guy like Antonio Bishop is going to have the best fucking defense lawyers money can buy.” Billy made a small snort of disgust, he flung the broken microphone into the trash.

“But we tested it before we left.” Billy couldn’t believe this was happening.

“Things break, it’s Murphy’s law, if anything can go wrong,” Boyd sat back not not bothering to finish the sentence.

Billy folded his arms, he could feel himself vibrating.

“You got the jitters kid?” Boyd lowered his voice, Billy knew he was looking out for Billy, making sure the others didn’t overhear.

“Just adrenaline, nothing to worry about, sir.”

“That’s normal, it’ll pass. Go home, have drink or five, but we’ll need you to be ready tomorrow.”

“I will be, Lieutenant.” Billy attempted to regulate his breathing. He knows if he tells them about the photograph, tells them he knows the intended victim they’ll pull him off the case. That’s what Billy would do if he was in charge, you can’t be emotionally compromised, you can’t show up in court as a witness and say, yeah, this bad man was going to kill my… my what? What was Steve Harrington to him, after all these years. Billy felt nauseous and dizzy. The problem was proof, there was no hard evidence, no wires, no cash, and technically no name, so why would Billy mention the photograph now, why say Steve’s name when that wouldn’t really change much, they’d still want to catch Bishop with the key evidence that would get him locked up or get him to squeal on someone bigger and badder than him.

“You did your job, the wire didn’t. Go home.”

Billy blinked slowly, and nodded. He could still pull out the photograph, he could still say, I know this guy, I know who it is. But then he’d be off the case, and what if Bishop didn’t get in touch, the case would be dropped, there’s no way they’d contact Steve ahead of time, they might reach out to his dad. Were the Harringtons still in Hawkins? Billy had no idea.

“Get outta here Hargrove, there’s nothing more we can do tonight.” Boyd waved his hand at him, as if dismissing a child. Billy made his mind up.

 

Billy drove home like a demon, blazing through red lights on his motorcycle, taking turns so sharply he could have laid down his bike or blown out his knee. He didn’t care. He took the stairs two at a time and rammed his key in the lock. Everything was normal, the smell of cooking onions filled the apartment hallways, someone was watching Three’s Company, he couldn’t get that hear the stupid fucking theme song, but music seemed too fast. The lamp in his living room was too bright, he squinted at it as he went to his bookshelf, he practically fell on his knees and and grabbed a faded fat phone book from the corner of the bottom shelf. Welcome to Hawkins, was emblazoned on the front. He rifled through the pages, nearly tearing them as he went. His fingers shaking. Billy dragged his phone off the bedside table and punched the numbers. The number to the Harrington’s was disconnected. Billy flipped through the pages again, there was no answer at the Wheeler household. Billy flipped back towards the front of the phone book and dialed a third number.

“Hello?” A soft high voice answered.

“Hi, Mrs Byers, its Billy, Billy Hargrove. I went to school with your son, do you know if he’s still in contact with Steve Harrington, or do you have his number by any chance?”

“Oh, Billy, You’re Max’s big brother. Is everything okay?” Joyce Byers’ tone is gentle and worried.

“Yes, I just really need to get in touch with Steve.” Billy wants to reach through the line and shake her, not that she was doing anything wrong, Billy wanted to shake everyone around him in that moment, he’d shake the first person he saw given the chance.

“Well, they’re still friends, but Jonathan and Nancy are in New York now, do you have a pen handy?”

“Yes.” Billy lunged across his desk and knocked over a cup of pens and grabbed one.

“Okay,” Joyce relayed the number with care, “do you got that, want me to repeat it?”

“No, I got it. Thanks. Good night.” Billy hung up. He wiped his brow, he was sweating even though it was probably only 45 degrees in his apartment. Billy dialed Jonathan’s number. It rang six times before an answering machine clicked on.

“Hello, thank you for calling Byers Photography. Leave your name and number and the reason for your call and we’ll get back to you as soon as we’re able.” Billy recognizes Nancy Wheeler’s voice.

“Nancy, um, Jonathan, whichever of you gets this, I need you to call me, I need to get in touch with Steve, Steve Harrington, it’s important. Just please call me,” Billy rattled off his number twice, and then hesitantly added, “It’s Billy Hargrove. Call me.”

Billy sat back, hard on the floor, not knowing who to try next. Max!

“Hello?”

“Max, it’s me.” Billy felt breathless and hopeful.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Do you have Steve Harrington’s number?”  
“What, why?”

“Just do you have it?”

“No, um Dustin might. Why do you want to talk to Steve, I thought you still hated him for some stupid reason.”

“Max, now is not the time. Just give me Dustin’s number.”

“Are you okay?”

“It’s an emergency Max.”

“Okay, lemme just, hold on, okay I’ve got Dusty’s number,” she relayed the number.

“What area code is this?”

“Japan, Tsukuba Ibaraki district, I think.”

“You’re fucking kidding me.”

“No, he’s in a study abroad program, Billy what’s happening?”

“Nothing, I’ll call you tomorrow okay. Thanks for the number.”

Billy hung up on Max, he could tell she was mid question, he dialed the number Max had given him, but it didn’t go well, he knew he had the right number because all he could understand was when the person on the other end of the line said in very clear English, ‘Dustin Henderson is at school’, followed by a stream of Japanese, they repeated themselves very slowly, as if them repeating themselves slowly in Japanese was going to make Billy understand. Billy tried saying emergency and it’s urgent, but all he got back was a very calm ‘Dustin Henderson is at school’, and more Japanese words in a slightly faster and less polite tone.

 

Billy hung up, he could feel the walls tilting in, his heart felt like it’s going to explode, or like he might melt through the floor.

“Get your shit together!” Billy snarled at himself, he hadn’t felt this much anxiety since he’d lived under Neil’s roof. Billy got on his feet and walked to the sink and filled a glass with tap water and downed it. He tried to convince himself that he’s panicking for nothing.

“That’s when everything falls apart, Hargrove.” Billy chided himself, “Bishop won’t do anything, guys like that don’t get their hands dirty.” Billy kicked the phone book across the floor. It skittered across and fell open to an add for the Hawk Movie Theater, there’s a little cartoon illustration of the Marquee. Billy’s last summer in Hawkins comes flooding back to him, when Steve was working at Scoops Ahoy and wearing that ridiculous uniform.

 

**Part 13**

 

Billy hated his first Indiana summer, it was sticky and there was no beach and the lake was bullshit. He hated working at the hardware store. Hated Neil and well he didn’t hate Susan, he was losing all the sympathy he’d managed to muster for her, things between him and Max were getting better. They could sometimes share a joke, or just be quiet around one another, but for the most part Max was always doing things with her nerd friends, Billy was a little resentful of them, but if he was honest with himself, he knew he was jealous of the fact that she had _real_ friends. When he would pick her up from the arcade he could see her laughing, he could tell how much they cared about her. She and Sinclair were glued at the hip, and if she wasn’t beside her ‘secret’ boyfriend, she was with that weird girl Jane, the daughter of the chief of police.

To avoid going home one night he decided to go the Mondays’ Midnight Monster Madness! Old time horror flicks that were scheduled to run for the whole summer at the Hawk. Every Monday night a different classic spooky film was shown, sometimes double features, most of the films were Universal Pictures. Neil no longer cared if Billy got home at a decent hour (or maybe at all), as long as he handed over his paycheck and did his chores, and would watch Max when he was told to- his dad couldn’t give a shit, which was better, Billy told himself, but it didn’t really _feel_ better. Nothing ever felt even close to good when it came to his dad.

 

Billy didn’t totally hate working at the Hardware store, he didn’t have to wear a stupid apron, just a little name tag that the owner’s made there at the shop with a wood burning kit, which Billy despised, he felt like one of the dorks Max hung out with could make a better name tag in a wood-shop class. The store was always too hot, the owner Mr Kamisky was cheap and refused to let the staff run the air conditioner.The customers were mostly dudes from around town, soft bellied dads, a few of the teachers would come in and always make some stupid comments about how he better apply to colleges, sometimes asking him if he’d considered the military to get money for college and a bunch of other bullshit small-talk, as if they gave a flying fuck about Billy’s future.

A few random bearded hicks occasionally crawled out from even smaller towns around Hawkins (although for Billy it was hard to imagine a place smaller and more backwoods than Hawkins), they’d come in and hem and haw over they prices. They had odd closed mouth accents, that made it hard to understand what the hell they were saying, but Billy got the hang of it, for the most part and could help them. Once in a while a housewife type would come in and try to make teasing comments about his long ‘hippy' hair, Billy wouldn’t even bother to turn up the charm, it wasn’t fun or entertaining for him, just kind of tedious. Most of the regulars eventually realized he knew his stuff and treated him with something between courtesy and indifference. The hardest part about the job was how slowly the days dragged by. It was as if as soon as the StarCourt Mall opened everyone abandoned Hawkins’ little downtown shopping strip.

When the mall had first opened Billy had been curious. He’d even read over the job postings, and walked through the job fair, but there was nothing cool. It was all boring and damned mainstream, he considered applying at the bookstore, but when he found out that Vicki had been hired as an assistant manager he decided not to apply, their breakup hadn’t been exactly amicable.

Billy was pleasantly surprised the first night that went to the midnight screenings, he was only half heartedly interested in the movie, even wondered if he’d fall asleep during it.

When Billy walked in it felt like he’d come in when they weren’t even open. It was quiet and it looked like half of the lights had been turned off. He walked across the shadowy lobby wondering if they’d turned down the lights to make it spooky. Aside from the guy in the box office the only other person he saw was the lady behind the concession stand. Billy was about to go straight in the theater, but then changed his mind. He knew what it was like to be stuck holding up a counter in a place that was dead. The lady behind the counter looked so bored and forlorn, her tightly curled grey hair had a weird lavender tint to it, she looked like she was a hundred years old.

“Just a large Cherry Coke, please.” Billy dug out his wallet and rested a couple bills on the glass top of the counter, he wanted Red Vines and maybe some Reeces Pieces too, but he needed to save his money.

“You’re just in time, The Wolf Man just started, it’s a hoot!”

“I do love a good hoot.” Billy had mumbled, not unkindly.He stepped through the squeaking swing doors that lead to the isles of seats, the film score was dramatically warbling, the sound was off, Billy squinted up at the screen. His eyes slowly adjusted to the low shuttering light cast on the theater by the film. He decided the back row would be fine and crab walked towards the middle watching the screen, sentimental strings were being played as some dude was peeping on a lady, Billy had no idea what this had to do with the being the Wolf Man and snorted a laugh. He heard someone else laugh a couple seats to his right. Billy thought about moving, it they were the only two people in the theater why the hell should they share an isle. Stubbornly Billy sat down heavily, he wasn’t going to give up the back row. He gave the other film goer a side eye, wondering if they were locals, or maybe if it was some guy from out of town. Billy shook his head and chuckled again, even in a the low light he’d know that head of hair anywhere, Steve Harrington was sitting alone at the theater, watching a cheesy old-time movie and laughing to himself like a total dork, just like Billy.

Billy watched the film, but was distracted knowing that Steve Harrington was a couple seats away. Billy stretched out his legs and tried to focus on the story, the dialogue was absurd, clearly whoever wrote it, didn’t intend that, but it hadn’t exactly aged well. Then one line caught Billy off guard, it was said about the guy that would become the _wolf man_ , “There’s something very tragic about that man and I’m sure that nothing but harm will come to you through him.”

Suddenly Billy felt like he was the wolf man, he sank deeper into his seat watching the film and chewing on the end of his straw. Billy had been kind of lost thought when the end credits rolled, he glanced over and saw Steve getting up. Billy glared at Steve when their eyes met. Steve narrowed his large dark eyes and stalked out the other end of the isle and that was that.

Billy surprised himself by going back the following Monday, and then the one after that. He’d arrive usually ten minutes or so after the film had started, he didn’t want anyone to see him walk in alone. The same old lady was always behind the counter, she told him that Frankenstein didn’t really do the novel justice one night as she was passing him his box of Red Vines, and the following Monday she’s said that the Phantom of the Opera was a masterpiece as she handed him his Cherry Coke. Steve had been there the second night in the same seat as before, and on Billy’s third trip he was kind of worried that Steve wouldn’t be there, and felt an odd kind of relief when he saw him sitting alone, a huge bag of popcorn resting in his lap, his eyes glued to the screen.

Billy sipped on his soda watching Steve instead of the screen. Steve had a hoodie on, his long legs crossed at an angel, not quite fitting in the narrow isle. Steve glanced over at Billy and their eyes locked. Billy nodded, and felt himself blush, he was glad it was dark and just looked at the lid of his Cherry-Coke not knowing where to look for a second and then up at the screen. He felt kind of miserable when he remembered how horribly things had gone between them. He remembered Tommy crowing about what pussy Steve had become since Nancy Wheeler had dumped him. Once Billy had even heard Carol and Vicki gossiping about Steve, saying how he was so weird now, how he was different. They speculated that Steve had something to do with Barbara’s disappearance, but of course it had been the toxins from the lab, but then there was the Bob guy, Carol suggested that Steve was secretly a serial killer and they’d both cackled at the idea. Billy knew that something really bad had happened that night, the night that he’d gone to the Byers’ house. Max had changed after that. Steve was no serial killer, but maybe something really bad had happened to him too, outside of Billy beating kicking him, smashing a plate over his head and beating his face in. Billy straightened, he thought maybe coming was a bad idea. He was about to get up and leave when Steve plopped down beside him and handed him the popcorn.

“What am I your valet?”

“Just eat some Hargrove.” Steve had groaned.

Much to both of their surprise, Billy did, and something like friendship got started, although Billy would have never guessed something as simple as that would change everything between them. It was as if a small sliver of light had opened up to a very dark place that Billy had felt trapped in, and he hadn’t even know that a door was there. By the end of July they’d made out twice, they’d even jerked each other off in the back Steve’s BMW.

It wasn’t till the last screening in August that Billy decided to take things further, he’d been afraid, but his desire had been stronger. It had been about twenty minutes into King Kong and both of them were pretty quiet. The bag of popcorn was leaning in Steve’s lap, still nearly full. Billy’s Cherry Coke was resting on the ground between the both of them and although Steve had bought Red Vines neither of them seemed particularly interested in them. Billy wondered if they should keep hanging out, they’d only been getting together on Mondays, but maybe he was bad news for Steve. Steve was a genuinely good person, Billy had dismissed him as just being a slightly more popular version of Tommy, but now that he was paying attention, really taking in who Steve was, what he was like one on one, he just couldn’t get over what a good person he was, and damned good kisser too. He looked over at Steve and was about to say something, Billy wasn’t even sure what, when a family of four came in. The father was complaining about the price of the snacks, the mother had two boys in tow, one of them was whining that he didn’t like scary movies and the other one wanted to know why he couldn’t have his own popcorn. Billy recognized the guy from the hardware store, he was some kind of carpenter, kind of a know it all.

“Great, rug-rats.” Steve hissed under his breath. Billy was glad that the family sat in the front row, since Steve and he were safely tucked away in the last row.

It took nearly half an hour for the kids to quiet down, and then the father started snoring loud enough for them to hear all the way in the back.

“Jesus, what an asshole. Just stay home.” Steve twisted in his seat, he was clearly agitated and Billy wondered if it wasn’t about the family, maybe Steve was wondering what was next for them too?

“Should we even stay for Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein?” Steve’s knee was jittering against Billy’s leg.

“It’s the last movie of the series.” Billy said softly, saying it out loud made Billy feel even worse than before.

“Yeah.” Steve sighed and plucked a Red Vine out of the box and handed it to Billy. Billy took it and chewed thoughtfully. They’d never made out in the theater, they’d always done it afterward, usually next to their cars, once in the back of the BMW. More often than not after the show they’d talk about the film, laugh about the cheesy effects, recite their favorite lines at each other and then make out for a bit, things escalated to grinding and petting, and sometimes more. But that night in July, during the summer storm had been the stuff of Billy’s dreams.

Billy slouched in his seat till his knees touched the backrest of the seat in front of his. Steve glanced over and chuckled.

“You look like you’re having a great time.”

“You sound like you’re not.” Billy said listlessly.

“I, I’m… glad I’m here… with you.” Steve uttered faintly into his chest, his eyes flicking back to the screen.

“Just glad?” Billy whispered, “I can do better than that.”

“What?” Steve looked over, his eyes unsure. Billy reached over the arm rest and squeezed Steve’s thigh and ran his hand up, letting his finger tips catch at the hem of Steve’s work shorts. Steve sat up a little startled. Billy leaned over a murmured breathy “Shhh.”in Steve’s ear.

“There are people here.” Steve whispered, his eyes going wide. Billy nodded and pressed his hand over Steve’s crotch, feeling him stiffen though the fabric, Billy squeezed and stroked till he could feel the tip of Steve’s cock. It didn’t take much coaxing, Steve leaned back his hands gripping the arm rests, his breath shallow and quick, soft and trembling. Billy slid down off his seat and onto his knees, he squeezed himself between Steve’s legs and tugged down at Steve’s shorts.

“Holy shit.”

Billy heard Steve mumble. Billy was getting hard himself, he yanked on the waistband of the shorts and then Steve’s briefs, he knew he was being a little fast, maybe a little rough, but he had to do it before he chickened out. He pressed hard on the inside of Steve’s thighs spreading them and leaned in closer, he was kind of wedged between Steve’s long legs, the backrest behind himself and the edge of Steve’s chair, it was more claustrophobic than he’d anticipated.

Billy stroked Steve’s cock in both his hands, he looked up and met Steve’s dark eyes, Steve gave a quick nod, his eyes blinking, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. Billy could feel an aching clench in his balls as he grew hard just by touching Steve. Billy tilted his head down and tasted the tip, he glanced up at Steve one more time and then closed his eyes and gently started licking, then suckling. Billy took his time, making sure Steve was nice and wet with saliva, Steve’s cock swelled in his mouth, hot and full. Billy sucks harder, finding his rhythm, moving Steve deeper into his mouth and then dragging his tongue and lips back down nearly to the tip. Billy felt Steve’s fingers dig into his hair gripping the base of Billy’s neck as Steve slid his hips forward, Billy had started to tremble, he felt pinned and both in and out of control.

Billy felt Steve’s fingers loosen their grip, his long fingers pressing down over his shoulders, Billy started drawing on him again, rolling his tongue against Steve’s hot flesh, teasing the tip. Steve shifted back, and pushed at Billy’s shoulders, but Billy moved Steve deeper in his mouth, he could tell Steve wanted him to back off, wanted to be released, but instead Billy grabbed Steve’s hips and drew him in deep. Steve was big, but Billy was stubborn and he did his best take as much as he could. Again Billy felt Steve trying to escape, even heard a shuddering whisper that might have been Billy’s name escape Steve’s lips, but Billy wasn’t going to relinquish control, he sucked and pulled back and drew in Steve’s cock harder and faster.

Steve came in Billy’s mouth, it wasn’t something Billy had ever let anyone do, ever even wanted to try, he almost choked, and finally released Steve’s cock. Billy rested his cheek on Steve’s thigh, catching his breath, he felt the heavy dizzying release and groaned lightly as he came in his jeans. Billygrabbed the watered down soda and sucked down the last of it, coughing lightly. He felt Steve’s hands land on the top of his head, his touch light and his fingers moving gently in his hair, it was the most tender touch Billy had ever gotten from another boy, on impulse he kissed Steve’s thigh and then drew back, and slid out from between Steve’s legs. He twisted and crawled up and onto his feet. He wiped at his face with the hem of his shirt and walked up the isle and out of the theater, he didn’t want Steve to see that he was crying.

 

Billy wasn’t even sure why he was crying, he’d liked it, he’d do it again and again if he could. As soon as he stepped outside he lit up a cigarette with shaking fingers. He heard Steve come out the doors.

“Hey, hey, where’d you go? Are you okay, did I hurt you?”

“No, dumbass. I just wanted a smoke.” Billy had snarled, he saw Steve visibly flinch, it made Billy’s heart ache so he turned away, expecting Steve to leave.

“Okay,” Steve had replied and walked around Billy to face him, Steve even swiped gently at tear rolling down Billy’s cheek, “Okay.” Steve said again and Billy had started to pull away and Steve had pulled him back and kissed him, slowly and sweetly, right there in the middle of the street, right in front of the Hawk. It wasn’t Billy’s first kiss, not by a long shot, but it was the first kiss to make him feel like he was levitating off the ground, like he was vibrating so hard he was coming apart atom by atom. Billy felt hot tears fall down his cheeks and he couldn’t stop them. He felt Steve wrap him up so tightly in his arms it was like Billy would never be free again, and he didn’t care. They kissed for a long time, Billy kept expecting someone to step out of the theater doors and call them faggots or pervs, but it never happened. When Steve finally broke the from kisses, he ruined everything, when he said “I love you.”

 

**Part 14**

 

Steve had been packing most of the day and into the night, he could still hear Neil Hargroves spite, his bitterness that had practically oozed out of the telephone. Steve poured himself another drink and crumbled up the wrapper from the pastrami on rye that he’d picked up for dinner from the deli down the street.He walked over to his answering machine and felt a flash of hope when he saw the blinking light, he hit the play button,

_-Hey, it’s Gloria, give me a call, don’t keep me waiting mister, I know where you work._

“Oh shit.” Steve groaned, he didn’t want to cancel and he also didn’t think he could handle a date, she was great, but it would just turn into a long goodbye. Steve picked up the phone and paced from the front room to the bedroom and back again, trying to build up the nerve to call her and tell her his plan, he’d not even told her he was quitting, and he hadn’t told anyone that he was leaving the state, he just wanted to vanish like a criminal on the lam. He punched the buttons and then hung up.

“I can’t, Gloria, I can’t.” Steve said the air. He shoved a couple boxes into one corner of the room. He looked at almost everything he owned, taking up a space of roughly five squared feet.

“Not bad.” Steve topped off his drink, and promised himself he’d get a plant or a cat for his next place, he thought he’d feel a little better talking to some living thing other than himself.

On the kitchen counter were the remaining bottles of booze from his cabinets. He didn’t want to dump them, but he also didn’t want to pack them. So logically, he thought he should just get drunk. Steve emptied his glass and poured himself a generous double shot of vodka over ice and splash or orange juice from a nearly empty carton. He held his glass up to the apartment and saluted it and took a drink. He grabbed his disc-man and put on his headphones and pressed play. He’d discovered recently that he really liked grunge, which surprised him, because he kinda hated punk and metal too, but grunge was like the sweet spot in the middle, not too contrived not too tuneless, very angry, but also poetic. To blow off some steam and push away his melancholy he started jumping around to Bleach by Nirvana. He jumped around the living room lost in music, the driving guitar, the thrumming bass, and the growling of Cobain. It all somehow said more than he could put into words, lost, wild, afraid, rabid, music is all he needs, he told himself. He thought about Billy, if only this music had been around back then, he would have made him a mixed tape. Steve bounced around, his long limbs flailing, his hair getting wild with sweat. He’s nearly worn himself out when he hears a beat out of tune with the discordant music that’s soothing his soul.Steve tries to tune it out but there’s no blocking out the banging.

“What the ever loving fuck?!” He just wanted to dance, to think about Billy and not have it hurt so much, to just check for one second. Steve ripped his headphones off, he’s certain it’s his asshole neighbor from downstairs. Steve could barely fart without the guy complaining. But the noise isn’t coming from the floor, it’s coming from the door. Steve grabs his bottle of vodka and takes a long pull, and he has the weirdest sensation, one he’s not felt since he was in the tunnels, there’s a part of him that practically screaming;

_\- Don’t open the door, don’t do it, don’t open the door…_

But the knocking persists, and Steve sidewinds to the door, feeling resentful of having his cathartic ritual interrupted and just wanting to get back to a little oblivion.

Steve unlocks the door, running his hand over his head trying not to look like a twenty something in the middle of an emotional crisis. He’s already a little buzzed from the booze, the sandwich hadn’t been very large and he’d drained that generous double pretty quick and of course there was the generous double before that. The person outside is still banging on his door.

“What?!” Steve bellowed as he opened the door wide. Time slows to a dead stop as Steve focuses on Mr Bishop’s ruddy face, his eyes look wild and glassy, like a bear in a fit of blind rage, Steve had seen one once on a National Geographic documentary. Steve attempts to conform his expression to mild curiosity as his heart nearly beats out of his chest. Everything feels wrong, very, very wrong. Steve knew this was very bad.

“Mr Bishop, now’s not a very good time.”Steve could hear the tremble in his own voice, it was more adrenaline than fear, which he hoped might give him an edge.

 

**Part 15**

 

Billy ran up the stairs of the station and through the doors, all but bowling over

Rollins.

“Where’s the fire, Hargrove?” Billy ignored him, he can’t believe he’d wasted so much time when he what he needed was at the station. Billy got on one of the computers and started his search ignoring the curious glances he was getting by people in the station.

A list of Harringtons popped up on the screens, he’d accessed the DMV records, and started scrolling through the names not bothering to sit down.

Harrington, Steven Elroy

Harrington, Steven Erickson

Harrington, Steven Henry

Harrington, Steven Omar

Harrington, Steven Oscar

Harrington, Steven Otis

Harrington, Steven Rodrick

Harrington, Steven Roland

 

The list was longer than Billy had expected, Billy had no idea how many Steven Harringtons there were in Indianapolis, if Steve was even in Indianapolis, or if his legal name was Steve or Steven he chewed the inside of his cheek, he didn’t even know Steve’s middle name.

“Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.” Billy growled, he reread the list, his skin was prickling. Billy didn’t believe in souls, but if he did whatever he was feeling deep in his felt like his entire being was on fire, Steve was in imminent danger. Billy knew that Bishop was a wild card, and there was no relying on a man like that to wait for a hitman to do the job for him. Billy didn’t know how to explain what he was feeling to someone like Lieutenant Boyd or Captain Swain, and he’d withheld information from them earlier that day, but the feeling - he could call it something simple, callit a gut-feeling, but that kind of explanation only worked on TV.

“Think god-damn-it.”

Billy quickly narrowed his list to two names by checking the birthdate of each Harrington, Steven. He couldn’t believe he didn’t even know Steve’s birthday.

Harrington, Steven Henry and Harrington, Steven Otis.

The first one had their address in a rather poor part of the city, one where it would be reasonable to believe that someone just starting out like himself might live, it was a house, the second was on the opposite side of town in an apartment building, also a rather modest neighborhood, but a little more gentrified. One was born in June, the other in August, Billy didn’t put any faith in Astrology and felt like he was flipping a coin when he picked the latter.

Billy whipped around slow traffic, his motorcycle cutting between cars and the rear tire skipping on sharp turns. He blew through more than one red light, but he didn’t have time to worry about one of his buddies giving him a ticket,part of him hoped that one of the guys would get on his tail, that way he’d just let them follow him all the way to the location, maybe even send someone to the second address, Billy’s stomach flopped at the thought that he might be rushing to the wrong Steve Harrington’s home. A part of him wondered if he was putting his career on the line, he decided he didn’t care. He nearly raced passed a modest looking apartment building but managed to skid to a stop and then roll up onto the sidewalk. Billy leapt off his bike. His heart was beating so heard he could feel it in his skull.Billy ripped off his helmet and raced up the steps some double doors, he leaned into the door as he turned the handle only to realize it was locked, he needed a door code. Billy started reading the little plaque with the tenants’ last names and first initials, half of them had been peeled off or just scratched out and what few remained there was no Harrington, S.

 

Three loud pops echoed from within the building.

 

**Part 16**

Steve staggered backward, he was more alarmed by the sound and flashes than anything else. He’d been standing there one moment looking at the unexpected visage of Mr Bishop, trying to formulate a plan and the next thing he knew there were flashes and a string of unexpected bangs. He staggered back, and looked at Mr Bishop who was ranting incomprehensibly and holding a gun. Steve drew a sharp breath, bewildered and frightened.

“Is that a…” SH knew it was pistol, he took a wobbly step forward and slammed the door shut, he leaned into it slapping the bolt and twisting the lock only to hear another volley of shots splintering the wood of his door. It wasn’t until his eyes fixed on the bullet holes in the door that he realized he’d been shot.

 

“I’m gonna kill you, you son of a bitch, OPEN THE DOOR!”

 

**Part 17**

 

Billy threw himself against the double doors, when that failed he shot the glass, it was safety glass and didn’t shatter. He swung his motorcycle helmet at it breaking the glass apart till he could slid through a narrow opening in the door, shouldering his way in. He rushed forward, shards of glass falling out of his hair and some small glinting pieces clinging to his clothes, he’d barely crossed the lobby when a face appeared, pale and anxious peering through a cracked door.

“Police, remain in your apartment!” Billy yelled as he ran up the stairwell. When he rounded there third floor he nearly knocked over a teenager in headphones, the kid looked mad for a second and then a bizarre cocktail of frightened and impressed that a man with a gun drawn was in his stairwell.

“Get in your apartment and call cops, OK? Tell them Hargrove needs back up, you got that?”

The kid nodded and rushed away, Billy hoped it was to a phone.

Steve’s apartment number was 505, which meant Billy had two more flights of stairs to go.

 

**Part 18**

 

“You shot me!” Steve screamed as he stumbled back from the door, another volley of shots went off, the wood around the lock splintering. Steve could hear Bishop ranting on the other side of the diminishing door.

“Oh shit, shit.” Steve ran to the window and threw it open when the front door clattered open, there wasn’t time to get out on the fire escape. Steve dashed into his bedroom, his socked feet were sliding on the floor, he grabbed the cordless off of his bed and pressed his hand down over his stomach, his shirt was painted with blood. Ithurt like hell when he pressed down on it, but it seemed to be important to keep the blood from flowing out, half hysterical he reasoned to himself that it always seemed important in the movies anyways and at least he wasn’t scooping up his intestines. All his thoughts were piling up like a train wreck.

Steve dove into his tiny bathroom and locked that door, then in the tub and shut the sliding door.He turned the phone on and pressed the keys, his fingers were with tacky with blood, his hands were going numb.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

Steve rattled off his address, twice before going into details, “This guy named Bishop, Antonio Bishop, he’s in my apartment, he’s got a gun, he shot me, I think, I’m bleeding, there’s a lot of blood.He’s going to kill me.”

Steve felt the phone slide out of his hand, his fingers felt lifeless, so he just pressed his palms over his stomach. He wondered if he should be screaming, or crying, but all he was feeling was cold and alone. He could hear the dispatcher trying to talk to him, but she just sounded like a mosquito.

 

**Part 19**

 

“Drop the weapon!” Billy roared, Antonio Bishop turned to face him, Billy could see blood on the floor, and a few spatters on Antonio’s pale grey suit.The room stank of gun smoke, time felt disjointed, “DROP IT NOW!” Antonio did a double take looking at Billy, his face was beet red, his eyes screwed up tight in disbelief.

“STEVE?!” Billy called, ice hitting his veins, _too late,_ he thought _, too late._

“You?! I know YOU!” Antonio took a half step forward and thought better of it and dropped his gun, he raised his hands slowly, “You’re some kinda undercover, huh? Too fucking late, asshole.”

“STEVE HARRINGTON!” Billy yelled again, no answer.

Billy looked Antonio in the eye, the guy had a smug little smirk on his face, like he was the cat that swallowed the canary. Billy shot him between the eyes.

 

Billy went past Antonio’s corpse, not bothering to look at him, feeling dizzy and sick but it has nothing to do with the fact that he just murdered Antonio Bishop, everything around him is collapsing, but he keeps moving forward, into the bedroom, he glances out the window and realizes they shared similar views of downtown, he sees the letter he wrote Steve years ago laid open on Steve’s bedside table. Then he sees a bloody handprint on the bathroom door.

“Steve?” Billy doesn’t even recognize his own voice, the door is locked and Billy shoulders it open in one hard push. There’s more blood on the floor, and bloody streaks across the sliding glass door of the bathtub.  
“Oh, no, oh no, no.” Weak knee’d and watery eye’d Billy slid the door open slowly, and got beaned in the head with a bottle of VO5 shampoo.

“Steve, it’s okay, it’s me, it’s Billy.” Billy set his gun down and leaned in carefully.

“I saw you, I saw you. Why didn’t I stay, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Steve shuddered hard, he was ashen and grey lipped.

“I’ve got you, you’re safe, you’re going to be okay, I got you Peter Rabbit.” Billy grabbed a towel and lifted Steve’s shirt and pressed it over the weeping wounds.

“I’m sorry, please don’t cry. I’m so sorry.” Steve’s eyes were locked on Billy one moment and then seemed to swim blindly.

“Steve? Steve? Listen to me, okay.” Billy could hear the 911 operator’s voice coming from the phone that was under Steve’s side, he could also hear sirens wailing up the street rapidly approaching.

“Harrington, Don’t leave, don’t go..” Billy swallowed hard, he couldn’t say die, he couldn’t say don’t die, if he said die it might become real, “I’m sorry, we could have been, should have been…” Billy knew he shouldn’t but he reached in the bathtub and lifted Steve out and sat back cradling Steve in his arms.

 

 

**Part 20**

 

Billy sat in the ambulance, holding onto Steve’s hand. He didn’t care about his career, his reputation, he knew he was going to be taken off duty, that they be pissed at him for being at the hospital and having left a crime scene when he’d fired his weapon and killed Antonio Bishop, although Billy thought he’d never say that aloud, no way, he wasn’t stupid - he knew to say he was afraid for his life, Bishop had pointed his weapon at him and it was self defense, but the rest of it, the rest of everything didn’t matter. He promised himself he’d never leave Steve’s side again, unless Steve told him to, and maybe not even then he thought stubbornly. The ambulance bounced and jarred along the streets. The EMTs kept saying words like stable, strong pulse, and loss of blood, but Billy couldn’t really follow. Steve’s hair was damp with sweat, his skin looked lavender under his eyes, his face was still and expressionless but he was breathing. As soon as the ambulance stopped Steve was swept out on his gurney and into surgery, Billy followed as far as the nurses would allow. And then he sat in the waiting room. At some point Lieutenant Boyd appeared and was speaking to Billy, but Billy heard nothing.

 

**Part 21**

 

Tuesday, August 20th 1985 at about a quarter to Five AM, had been the last time he’d seen Steve Harrington. Steve had said “I love you.” And all Billy had said was, “Yeah, okay.” Steve had looked so sad, but only nodded and looked up at the stars.

“We’re just fucking around Harrington, don’t get…”

“Don’t get what?” Steve’s voice had been so soft and broken that Billy felt like someone had reached into his chest and squeezed his heart.

“Don’t get so serious.” Billy pulled Steve close to him, they’d kisseda while outside the theater and then migrated to Billy’s Camaro. Steve had pulled Billy close and stroked his hair and cheeks, his eyes like obsidian in the glow of the moonlight. Steve hadn’t said it again, he just said it that one time, said I love you, but every touch and gesture, every kiss and nuzzle said it, said I love you, and it broke Billy into a million pieces over and over again, but he couldn’t tell Steve to go home, couldn’t bring himself to say get out of my car, I don’t love you back… Billy could not do that, he couldn’t say that, he couldn’t lie about that to Steve, it felt physically impossible. They kissed and stayed close till their lips were tender, and when the kissing had stopped they just stayed near one another with their brows tipped against each other’s, sharing the same air, both exhausted, both hurting.

The next afternoon Neil had torn into Billy for not doing some stupid chore, and Billy had just listened without hearing a word his old man was saying. He couldn’t imagine what would happen if anyone found out about him and Steve, he could imagine what Neil would do. But what would it do to Steve?

As soon as Neil left for work Billy packed up his belongings, and threw them in the trunk of his car and the back seat. Susan saw what he was doing but didn’t try to stop him, didn’t say, don’t go Billy, she just turned her eyes away and folded the laundry, like he was just watering the lawn or taking out the trash.Billy wrote a note for Max and tucked it under her pillow and then left in silence, thinking maybe the house might be calmer without him around, it might even be a little better for Max and Susan.

He wrote a second note and stuck it under the windshield wiper of Steve’s car and then drove out of Hawkins for the last time.

 

**Part 22**

 

“Officer Hargrove, he’s out of surgery, he’s still sleeping.” A slim nurse had her arms folded, her expression gentle but fatigued. Billy looked at Lieutenant Boyd, not sure if he’d let Billy out of his site. They had several forms laid out before them and Billy’s assigned lawyer was apparently on his way to the hospital.

“Go on, we can’t really do much till we get Captain Swain all caught up, and then of course we’ve got to go to the Commander.” Boyd collected the papers,“ Go check on your friend, and Billy, don’t leave town.”

“Yes sir.” Billy stood up, he ran his hand over the pocket he normally kept his badge in and the other where his gun was usually holstered when he was off duty, both were empty and then he remembered he’d turned them into the Lieutenant as soon as he’d arrived.

Billy glanced at the clock, Steve had been in surgery for nearly seven hours. Billy shivered as he approached the side of Steve’s narrow hospital bed.Steve’s color was still pale, but no longer deathly. His breathing was steady and strong, much to Billy’s relief. Billy grabbed a chair and set it right next to the bed, Billy wondered where Steve’s family was, it was his fathers fault this had happened, Billy ruminated on that for a while, holding Steve’s hand. Steve’s long fingers were cool, but not icy and Billy absentmindedly kissed Steve’s knuckles and brushed his cheek against the back of Steve’s hand. Billy rested his eyes and cat napped, awoken by the occasional nurse, sometimes a doctor, or an orderly. The hospital was noisy, everything beeped and chirped, and doors were constantly swinging open and shut, even the pipes in the walls seemed too loud to Billy, none the less he stole a few minutes of sleep here and there, and then cracked his eyes to watch Steve sleep. It was early morning when Billy heard Steve’s voice.

“Billy?” Steve slurred, it sounded more like Bli-ly.

“Hey, how’s my pretty boy?” Billy sat up straight focusing his eyes on Steve’s blown out pupils.

“I feel flunny.”

“You sound funny too.” Billy smiled softly, he could feel his eyes welling, but didn’t look away, didn’t try to hide his tears.

“Oh. I got shot. It sucked…”

“You did, twice.”

“Totally sucks.”

“Yep.” Billy nodded, cracking a smile.

“You, you slaved mee.” Steve smiled brightly, his eyes fighting to stay open.

“I tried to, I was a little late.”

“Issnever too late.” Steve tilted his head watching Billy.

“I’m going to have to go to the police station pretty soon, but I’ll come back and visit you.”

“Don’t go.” Steve turned a little, fixing Billy with a worried look.

“I’ll be back, I don’t really have a choice. Just get some sleep, you won’t even know I’m gone.”

“Billy.”

“Yeah?”

“Billy?”

“I’m right here.”

“I love you.” Steve reached over and grabbed onto the chain of Billy’s necklace.

“Then why are you trying to choke me?” Billy laughed quietly, tucking his chin, hot tears were escaping the corners of his eyes, Steve was dosed up, probably high as a kite and didn’t know what he was saying, he had forgotten that Billy had left him with nothing but a stupid note. Billy gently rested his hands over Steve’s.“Let go Harrington, you need to sleep.”

“You’re not the, the boss.” Steve pulled harder, drawing Billy nearer.

“Steve, seriously…”

“No, nuh-uh, nope.”

“No?” Billy couldn’t believe how long they’d been apart, and how like before he just wanted to be closer, he wasn’t even sure why he was resisting.

“Yes.” Steve said.

“You’re stoned on pain meds, you know that, right?”

“Nope.”

“You’re a brat, Harrington.”

“Kiss me.”

“I, what? Here? No, you’re kidding, you’re high on opioids.”

“I almost died.” Steve said pouting.

“Okay, but just once.” Billy leaned in, he really hoped Steve wasn’t going to remember this and be pissed off. He kissed Steve gently on the corner of his mouth, and he felt Steve wrap the chain around his fingers luring Billy in like a fish.

“Harrington.” Billy tried to sound like it was a warning, but it clearly meant nothing to Steve because he parted his lips over Billy’s and kissed him deeply, even out of his head on Steve’s kiss was potent. Billy leaned closer it had been so long since they’d done this, it felt like centuries since he’d kissed the boy he loved. Billy reached up and pressed his palm gently to the side of Steve’s face, let his finger tips comb into the hair at his temple. Steve’s mouth felt cool and a little dry, but it didn’t matter, the longer they kissed the hotter and wetter their mouths felt. Billy could feel his breath coming heavier and shorter, he squeezed Steves’ shoulder gently and groaned hungrily into the kiss. Billy was vaguely aware that Steve’s heart monitor was quickening.

 

“Billy.” Steve leaned back smiling blissfully and gently releasing the chain.

“Yes?” Billy stared into Steve’s heavy lidded eyes with their large black dreamy pupils.

“I love you, asshole.” Steve said sweetly just before his eyes shut and his breathing deepened.

Billy smirked faintly and stood up slowly, he was stiff from sitting there all night and most of the morning. When he stepped out into the hall, he saw a woman in draped in a black fur coat coming towards him, her heels clicking loudly, she had a visitor’s label on her jacket, Billy thought he’d seen her before and then realized that she was Steve’s mother. Billy turned and went the opposite direction, not knowing when he’d see Steve again, or what kind of trouble he was in.

 

**Part 23**

Steve was sick of laid up, he was sick of being sore, and was no longer on speaking terms with his father. He was lucky that Gloria was so nice, she’d been visiting him three times a week for two weeks, and often bringing Golden China take out and when he was really lucky, her mother’s amazing Cuban dishes. They’d just finished their sweet plantains when the doorbell rang.

“I got it,” Gloria got up setting her dish down.

“Thank you, wait, Gloria.” Steve was still jumpy.

“It’s okay.” Gloria shook her head, Steve watched as she peered through the spy hole and then opened the door.

Billy is standing there looking at Gloria like he knows her.

“Billy, you know Steve?”

“Yes, yeah I do.” Billy nodded, a tight smile on his lips. Steve watched him, he could tell Billy wasn’t happy to see Gloria, but knew her, some how.

“Um, well, come in, so does this mean we were talking about the same Steve?” Gloria said lightly.

“What are you guys talking about?” Steve interjected, not liking being talked about.

“Billy and I met, the night of the company party, we were talking about you, but we didn’t know you were the Steve we were both talking about, life can be funny like that.” Gloria said lightly.

Billy had stepped in, he looked uncomfortable and ill at ease. Gloria looked at them both.

“I’m going to head out now. I’ll be back on Tuesday, but you know you can call me if you need anything, right?”

“Yeah, thanks Gloria.”

“Nice to see you again, Billy.”

“You too.” Billy nodded but Steve could see that Billy was feeling off kilter, he had learned Billy’s micro expressions over their first and last summer together, he didn’t know them all, but he could read quite a few.

Billy shut the door after Gloria walked out and walked over, Steve was laying on the couch, it still hurt to sit up.

“Have a seat, there’s plenty to drink in the fridge, if you want something.” Steve watched as Billy sat down slowly in a chair, his bright piercing eyes fixed on Steve.

“So how’s it feel to be a hero cop?”

“Is that how they’re spinning it?”

“Well, you saved my life, and if you read the articles we’re best friends from high-school, there’s even pictures of us playing basketball.”

“Are you shitting me?”

“Yeah, it’s what my dad told the press.” Steve said tiredly.

“I was suspended.”

“For how long?”

“I don’t know, I quit this morning.”

“Congratulations?,” Steve took a slow breath, “I haven’t seen you since I woke up in the hospital, then I kept waiting for you to come by. I even called the Police Department, but I think they thought I was the a reporter pretending to be me.”

“I know. Things, you know. The bureaucracy and red tape, I mean, once I knew I wasn’t going to get charged with murder I knew the next thing they were going to do is either fire me for breaking procedure or chain me to a desk, it’s just taken time to get to a point where I feel like IPD is done with me, as much as I’m done with them.” Billy was looking down at his hands, Steve stared at the saint dangling from his neck at the end of a silver chain.

“The place got fixed up, can’t even tell what happened here, still planning on moving though.” Steve twisted a little, looking a Billy was breaking his heart, but looking away would just feel worse.

Billy cleared his throat and asked, “When are you moving?”

“As soon as I’m able, it’s going to take another month before I can really lift anything.” Steve said dispassionately.

“Where to?”

“I used to want to move to California.” Steve felt the last word catch in his throat, he never wanted California, not really, he just wanted to be closer to Billy, Billy was the home he was meant to have, why couldn’t he just say it?

“The weather?” Billy asked.

“No. You, I thought that’s where you went. Till I saw you at the steak house.”

“You saw me there?” Billy looked startled and even a little hurt.

“Yeah, you held the door open for my mother, I thought I was hallucinating for a second.”

“Why didn’t you say hello?” Billy sounded wounded.

“Well, my dad had just made that big scene with Bishop, effectively putting a target on my back, and my mom wanted me to drive her home… and you’d left me,” Steve felt his voice crack, but he pressed on,“You’d skipped town, on my birthday actually.”

I didn’t know it was your birthday.”

“It wouldn’t have mattered.”

“I saw the note, you still have it. I thought you would have read it and wadded it up and thrown in the street,” Billy drew a breath, his brow knitted, “I didn’t know it was your birthday at the time, but I know now, andthat your middle name is Otis” Billy smiled at Steve, just a little, it was a cautious expression that melted Steve a little.

“It was my grandfather’s name, the one that was in Iwo Jima. I’m glad I was named after him, it was almost my dad.”

“He’s the one that told you when you feel helpless you should help others, right?”

“You remember that?"

“Yeah, it kind of helped me decide to become a cop.” Billy got on his feet and started pacing. Steve tracked him with his eyes, he felt to far away, physically and emotionally.

“You broke my heart.” Steve blurted as he forced himself into an upright position.

“I was afraid, small town, gossip, my bastard of a father, ruining your life.” Billy walked over and sat on the edge of the coffee table, he helped Steve sit up slowly.

“Are you afraid now?”

“No.” Billy shook his head slowly, tears standing in his eyes, but he didn’t look away, “You nearly died in my arms Steve, and I knew that was it, if you were gone, really gone…”

“But I’m not. I’m right here.”

“You know in the hospital you told me you love me.” Billy moved from the coffee table and sat beside Steve and clasped his hand, Billy’s hands were hard knuckled and warm, just the way Steve remembered them.

“I remember I called you an asshole.”

“Will you tell me again?”

“That you’re an asshole?” Steve smiled faintly, his heart was quickening with hope.  
“No, the other part.” Billy blinked out tears looking Steve in the eyes.

“I love you.” Steve reached up and ran his hand over Billy’s short hair and kissed him gently, Billy’s lips were soft and the corners of his mouth salted from tears, his full lips parted willingly and he carefully pulled Steve into his arms. It was a tender kiss, their tongues coy and exploring, their breath commingling. Steve liked the texture of Billy’s short hair, felt the familiar graze and prickle when he nuzzled his lips and nose against Billy’s cheek. When they finally stopped kissing Steve was in Billy’s lap and wrapped in Billy’s arms, Steve looked at Billy’s tear soaked lashes and reddened lips and traced them with his fingers.

“I love you too.” Billy said.

 

**The End**

**Author's Note:**

> This was super challenging to write, and I really hope if you made it this far that you enjoyed it! 
> 
> Big big thanks to the folks that have taken time (in the past, present and future) to leave feedback and comments. It means so much to me, I can't even explain.
> 
> The title was inspired by the song "Bang Bang - My Baby Shot Me Down" as sung by Cher, it's super cheesy and you should listen to it at least once.


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